My Eyes Don't Shed Tears
by checkerboardom
Summary: It's wrong, Matt knows it is, but God, does it feel right. Or the AU where a fifteen year old Matt hooks up with Mello's dad. -Matt/OC and (possible) eventual Matt/Mello. Rated M/Explicit for content. SEE WARNINGS INSIDE!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings: Underage sex, statutory rape, bad touch, bad language, daddy kink.**

**A/N: I felt like writing a smutty story about Matt having sex with Mello's dad. Don't judge me.**

_Yes, of course_  
><em>I remember, how could I forget?<em>  
><em>How you feel?<em>  
><em>And though you were my first time<em>  
><em>A new feel<em>  
><em>It won't ever get old, not in my soul<em>  
><em>Not in my spirit, keep it alive<em>

**Thinkin' Ahead by Bastille**

* * *

><p>He's not sure how it starts really, nor why and when. But he does know where it starts. He's fifteen at the time, visiting his mom for the summer. It's nice to be out of LA for once, nice to be out of the state of California for the first time since his parents' divorce.<p>

His mom's happy to see him too, even if she doesn't smile as the dusty landscape of Nevada rolls past the car's windows. She has the radio on, nails tapping the steering wheel as she hums along and Matt joins in, singing out loud when he reaches a verse he knows.

His mom rents a 2 bedroom house in Paradise City, driving to her job as a casino worker in Vegas each night. The night that Matt arrives is no exception. He barely has time to drop his bags and change into a clean outfit before they're back out the door and on the road.

They're three miles into the ten mile drive by the time his mom speaks the first time since she had called his name in the airport. "So..." She taps her fingers on the steering wheel in a quick rhythm. "How have things been with your father?"

It's a painful question for both of them, and Matt smiles in reassurance at the uncertainty in his mom's voice. "Fine, he works most of the time so I hang out at Mello's a lot"

"Good. I'd rather have you there than home alone." She pauses and lets out a long whoosh of air. "I've gotten better, ya know."

"I know." Matt replies, and he does. Knows how hard it was for her to give up her addiction, even as she lost her child. Knows that it must have been hell being alone as she weaned herself off of the drugs she'd come to rely on every day. She's hasn't completely changed from the quiet, almost apathetic, woman she was before but at least she's no longer depressed. Well not as far as he can tell.

"The arcade, buffet, pool and club are open to you." She tells him as she pulls into the casino parking lot, the millions of city lights illuminating the night around them. "You can't drink any alcohol, so don't even try, and don't go into any of the private rooms. Most of the other employees know you're here tonight so just find one of them if anything happens."

Her tone and gaze are serious, hand cupping his jaw softly as she look at him but he can see the _I love you_ in her eyes.

"I will, promise." He tells her and she slips a little pass card on a lanyard over his neck and gets out the car.

"Meet me here at midnight, okay?" She calls as she jogs toward the employee locker room and he waves goodbye.

...

The club is packed already, music blasting, lights sweeping the room in a myriad of colors. Matt's dizzy for a moment as he makes his way through the pack of bodies to the bar. A girl with blue hair smiles, shouts something and slips a pair of goggles over his eyes. The lights are instantly muted, orange covering everything like molasses and he smiles his thanks. The bar is less crowded, the night young enough not to warrant too much alcohol and he orders a glass of cranberry juice. If there's one thing that he's learned from his mother's addiction, it's that cranberry juice lessens the effects of drugs on one's body and he's not taking any chances.

"If you don't dance soon, I think he's going to drag you on the floor." The bartender shouts over the music, dipping his head toward a man a few seats down from Matt. When the redhead looks over his heart nearly stops, because, _holy fuck_, that's Mello's dad.

"You think?" Matt shouts back, even as he internally freaks out, because Mello's douche-bag of a dad is _here_. And currently giving him the most intense sex eyes he's ever experienced beyond the screen of a porno. Maybe it's the goggles, or the fact that that Matt's hair is at least three inches shorter than it was the last time Dara Kheel had actually seen him or Mello. He wasn't exactly the best dad and Matt had been at the Kheel house through enough of Mello's parents' fights and his dad's subsequent departures to know that.

"Go dance with him." The bartender tells him with a little nudge and something in the back of Matt's mind starts to plot. Dara smiles when he comes over, hands going seemingly automatically to his waist as he leans against him and Matt smiles back.

"Finally get tired of drinking alone?" Mello's dad asks and Matt shudders at the fingers running over the exposed skin above the hem of his pants. It's light and teasing, sending a coil of something through him as Dara moves them toward the dance floor.

"Finally get tired of sitting alone?" He questions back and Dara laughs, voices rumbling along Matt's spine like a series of mini earthquakes.

"Touche, Little Red." Dara says and plants a kiss on his shoulder. It reminds Matt of the times that he'd kissed his scraped knees before putting the bandaids on when he'd gotten hurt while playing with Mello. The thought snaps him out of it a little, makes him question whether what he's doing is really right, but then that kiss turns into a bite and his thoughts scatter.

He groans, hands flying up to tangle in hair the same shade of blonde as Mello's, as Dara's fingers span over his stomach in a way that makes him suck in a vertigo-inducing gulp of air. Dara hums against his skin, grinding their bodies together to the music. The fact that he can feel just how turned on Dara is through two layers of jeans makes him whimper in the back of his throat, makes him feel a bit light headed. Those deft fingers leave his stomach and travel up his sides as they dance and Matt's own hands slip down to Dara's neck as the older man leans to bite at his shoulder once more.

"Any plans for the night, Little Red?" He asks and it takes a bit for Matt's mind to process the question. The air's thrumming around his head and for a moment he just looks into the crowd around them before shaking his head no. Dara rumbles approvingly against his neck and Matt wonders if he'll have a hickey (or three) before the night is done.

"Then how about we take this somewhere a little more private?" Dara offers and Matt's alarm bells start ringing, even if this is Mello's dad. (Mello's dad who is currently dipping his fingers below his waistband in the most distracting way imaginable.) He stills for a moment and Dara follows his lead, even as the other clubbers dance on. "It doesn't have to be to a hotel room, if that's what's got you scared. The club provides rooms."

And, okay sue him, but that has Matt relaxing again, although he was kidding himself thinking he had the self control to stop this. Whatever _this_ is. Dara smiles over his shoulder, eyes dark and smoldering in a look that's pure sex. "Sure," And because that sounds a little too childish and eager, he adds. "If you think you can handle me."

That has Dara laughing again and Matt's stomach drops into a molten puddle of heat as the older man pulls him toward a side room, doorway covered by a thick curtain. The room is predominantly occupied by a bed covered in silk sheets and Matt flops back onto it as Dara turns the lock on the door.

When he turns around Matt is stretched out on the bed, shirt riding high on his hips. Dara climbs over him and pulls it all the way off as Matt arches his back and _god_ Matt has never felt so hot.

Taking Matt by the wrists he fists his hands into the pillows above their heads and rolls his hips down. Matt's legs fall open to accommodate him and Dara bites into his shoulder again.

"Oh fuck." Matt gasps and Dara chuckles.

"Not yet." He tells him and Matt bucks up impatiently because now that they've gotten started he never wants this to stop. "Soon though."

It's with that promise that he trails down Matt's body, teeth and nails grazing his skin as Matt keeps his own hands tucked up over his head. He somehow knows that moving them would be bad and that sends a rush of heat straight to his groin, makes him want to move them just to see what his punishment will be. Dara looks up at him, grey (not blue, thank god) eyes sharp as he seems to catch on to what Matt is thinking. He doesn't say anything though, just keeps going down until he's hovering over Matt's jean clad groin. Matt takes an infuriating second to wonder why he's still wearing jeans, then rolls his hips up again. Dara catches them mid-roll, holds them in place as he mouths at Matt's dick through the fabric and

"Jesus fucking Christ," He hisses. "Don't stop."

Dara doesn't respond, simply moves one of his arms so that it's cradling Matt's waist by itself, the other hand reaching up to undo Matt's belt. It's the tug of the belt through his loops that has Matt nearly dizzy with anticipation and he knows that Dara knows it because he tugs extra hard on the last loop, Matt's waist jerking to the side as he gives a teasing bite through his jeans. The tightness of his pants is maddening and he almost sobs when Dara leans up to undo his jeans and tug them down his legs along with his underwear.

In reality, he lets out a high needy sound that makes him sound like a kicked puppy as Dara licks a long stripe up the underside of his dick. Hands flying to Dara's hair, he tugs and spreads his legs a little more.

"If you didn't look so beautiful right now I'd punish you for that." He tells him, voice dark and deep as his lips brush the head of Matt's cock. He doesn't take Matt into his mouth though, not like he wants him to, but goes further down until his breaths are puffing against Matt's hole. It's when his tongue glides over his entrance that Matt flies to pieces, shuddering and gasping as Dara licks into him.

His hair brushes against Matt's balls, blonde against the feathering of red that Matt has down there, and it makes Matt want to weep. Propping himself up a little more, Dara leaves his ass to instead lick at the cum on the redhead's stomach and if that isn't the filthiest thing Matt's ever seen he's kidding himself.

Dara moans a little, like Matt _tastes good_, and slides back up his body, all leonine muscles and strength, to pull him into a kiss. It tastes weird, and when Matt realizes why, he wants nothing more than to crawl inside himself and die. Dara growls into the kiss, the denim of his jeans rough against Matt's sensitive cock as his tongue fucks into his mouth in swift strokes.

They kiss until Matt's lightheaded and Dara pulls back a little, hand reaching into his pocket. There's a sound like ripping foil and a slick finger circles his rim before peeking in. Dara does this a few more times, never fully breaching him, finger sometimes curling to hook at his rim and it's _so damn good_. When he finally does enter him, his finger goes to the third knuckle, sits there for a moment before sliding back out. It's uncomfortable at first, something he isn't used to, but it's the second finger that stretches him into an ache. Dara strokes him on the inside, twirls his fingers a little to help with the stretch before scissoring them in preparation for the third.

They're both impatient by then, Matt's dick once again standing at attention and god he know's Dara must be _beyond_ ready. The third finger is a welcome burn, something that makes him want to grind down onto Dara's hand until he cums. Dara doesn't let him though, just stretches him wide, gets him ready. If this is what prep feels like, Matt thinks he might die when it comes to the actual fucking.

He feels empty when Dara's fingers finally leave him, and he watches as the older man unbuttons and unzips his jeans, not even bothering to pull them off as he shoves the hem of his underwear under his balls and palms lube onto his dick. They both groan at that, Matt's hands scrambling into the sheets as he fights the urge to pull the man into his body already.

He takes a moment when Dara lines himself up to start to worry but then he's sliding into him, wide and slow, until he's halfway there. It's too much and not nearly enough at the same time and Matt might just cry at how perfect Dara feels.

"That's right baby," Dara breathes into his ear, hips rolling as he inches deeper into Matt's body and Matt makes a noise halfway between a whine and a sob. "So fucking tight. I'd almost believe you were a virgin if it wasn't for the fact that you're such a cock slut." Dara tells him and Matt's heart stops, then starts beating double time. It's when he opens his mouth to speak that Dara bottoms out with a hard jerk of his hips and Matt cries out, clenching tight around him as he tries to keep him there, get him deeper, make that delicious full feeling stay.

Dara moans, mumbles somethings like a prayer, and pulls out a little in order to push back in. They start out like that, shallow and quick, until Matt adjusts. Then the rhythm changes, goes deeper, fuller, stretches him in the best way. His legs wrap around Dara's waist, heels digging into the hollows at the base of the older man's back as he thrusts into his body.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't you dare- fuuuuckk." Matt whines the last word out as he bucks up and Dara grins. Next thing he knows, they're being flipped and,_ fuck_, that's deep. Matt folds himself on his knees, sits on Dara's dick with a roll of his hips and moans. Dara doesn't say a word, just wipes at a tear Matt hadn't even realized he'd shed and thrust up into him, hands on Matt's waist. It's deep and probably the goddamn best thing Matt's ever felt, each thrust feeling like it's hitting him in the ribs, punching the air from his lungs until he's panting.

One of his hands comes up to stroke his dick as the other presses into Dara's shoulder and it's quick after that. Dara fucks him through his second orgasm, praises falling from his lips as Matt shivers and whines. When Matt's done, fucked raw and trembling, Dara pulls out, places Matt on his knees and pushes back in. Matt's arms almost buckle but then Dara smacks his ass and Matt bites his lip to keep from crying out again. He holds Matt's hips and fucks into him, chin on his shoulder as he whispers in his ear.

"That's it, milk daddy dry." He tells him and if Matt could, he would have come again at just how wrong and filthy that sounded. Instead he just clamps down tight around Dara and the older man stutters to a stop with a drawn out 'fuck'.

Pulling out, he plants a kiss to Matt's damp hair, then to his neck and shoulder, before flopping to the bed. He doesn't hold Matt, but that's okay, it's too hot anyway.

...

When Matt wakes up Dara is gone and his phone is ringing somewhere inside the room. Crawling around on the bed with limbs as week as a baby deer's he finds his phone in his pants and answers the call before it can go to voice mail.

"Hello?" He says and his voice sounds well and truly fucked.

"Matt, where are you? I've been waiting for you by the car for thirty minutes." His mom almost shouts and Matt bites back a curse. Wincing at the ache and slickness in his ass, he pulls on his underwear and jeans before rooting around for a shirt.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm coming. Just got a little lost in the building." He tells her as he tugs his boots back on.

"Okay. Just hurry up. It's the parking lot outside the back entrance." She says and she sounds tired. It makes Mat feel guilty as he jogs toward the lot. His mom is waiting for him in the car, radio on as the engine idles. He slides into the seat, wiggles a little, and settles.

It's not until they're back at his mom's and he's heading toward the bathroom that he receives the text:

_'Call me whenever you want to go again, Little Red.'_

And if he gets hard while cleaning Dara's cum out of his ass, then no one has to know.

* * *

><p><strong>Alright so that's the end of that bit. First smut that I've written in like a year and it's between a fifteen year old Matt and Mello's dad. Whooh. I might make a sequel or another chapter depending on how you guys like this one.<strong>

**So leave a review!**

**Other than that, take care.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings: Underage sex, bad touch, statutory rape, explicit language, explicit sexual content, daddy kink.**

**A/N: So here's part two, in which things escalate. This one's for ForeverMATT!**

_You got that medicine I need_  
><em>Fame, Liquor, Love give it to me slowly<em>  
><em>Put your hands on my waist, do it softly<em>  
><em>Motel sprees sprees and I'm singing<em>  
><em>'Fuck yeah give it to me this is heaven, what I truly want'<em>  
><em>It's innocence lost<em>

**Gods and Monsters by Lana Del Ray**

* * *

><p>When Matt wakes up the next morning, he's exhausted and a little achy. There's a pleasant hum running through his body and when he gets up to use the restroom he stretches up on his toes with a little groan. Last night has started to blur in his mind and if it weren't for the hickey marring his shoulder he'd think it was a dream. He strokes a finger over the discoloration lightly and shivers, toes curling as he thinks about last night.<p>

His stomach turns, pulls his thoughts from how pleasant it felt, points them in the direction of just how bad he's fucked up. He looks down at his boxers with a frown.

"You just had to get us in trouble, didn't you?"

His mom's in the kitchen when he arrives in the front of the house dressed for the day. Her hair's tied up in a messy red bun, grey streaks flashing pearly white in the morning light as she whisks eggs for french toast.

"Hand me the cinnamon, Hun." She tells him, gesturing toward the row of cabinets behind them. He opens the first one he finds and feels his blood freeze in his veins at the dusting of fine white powder on the shelf. His mom turns when he doesn't return with the spice right away and catches him staring, expression falling as she walks over. "It's just baking powder. I told you, I'm clean now."

Matt doesn't know if he believes her but relief floods through him anyways. He grabs the cinnamon and quickly closes the cabinet before helping his mom cook breakfast. It's not until they're sitting down and eating that his phone buzzes.

_'Morning Little Red, I bet you can still feel me in that tight little ass of yours.' _The text is from Dara, filthy and a little corny, making Matt flush and feel hot all over. His mom looks at him, a little puzzled when he makes a soft needy sound, because, yeah, he can still feel Dara in him. He feels slightly hollow, like Dara opened a place inside him that needs to be filled.

His mom doesn't say anything when he gets up from the table and heads back to his bedroom, she simply steals the last of his french toast for herself and puts his plate in the sink. When Matt's safely back in his room (or what the renovated office he's staying in is called) he opens a reply box and begins to type. Except, he can't think of anything, not something that'll make Dara ache for Matt like Matt does for him.

He flops belly up on his bed, fingers poised over his phone's keyboard as he thinks.

_'Don't be shy, Little Red.' _The next text says and Matt breathes out, slow and steady.

_'Not shy, just remembering last night. Want you so bad, daddy.' _He replies and he hopes Dara's groaning wherever he is. It's sick and wrong, but honestly Matt likes how Dara makes him feel, likes how a text message can send his dick jumping.

_'Can't say that I'd say no to a repeat, Red.' _Not Little Red, not anymore, and Matt fucking _swells_ with pride.

_'And what would you do, huh? Eat me out, make me moan like a good boy?' _Matt's palming himself through his jeans now, pressing his hand against his clothed cock as he bites back the wanton sounds that want to escape from his throat.

_'Nah-ah Red, you still need to be punished for last night. Don't think I forgot.' _And no, Matt doesn't think he has, not after the dark promise in Dara's eyes when Matt had moved his hands into Dara's hair.

_'Cant wait, want to beg for it.'_ Just to fuck with him he sends a follow up of _'Please daddy'_.

Dara doesn't reply for a bit and Matt imagines him sprawled out on his couch with his dick filling one of his big hands, or maybe he's in public and trying not to let anyone see how turned on he is. The thought makes Matt whine, long and low, as he ruts up into his hand.

He's arching up, head thrown back against his pillows with one of his hands shoved down his pants when the next text comes in.

_'Wanna choke you on my cock till you cry and fill you with my cum'_.The mental image makes Matt hiss out a quiet moan, hand stuttering as he coats his underwear. He lays there for a bit, chest rising and falling in quick breaths as his cum starts to cool. Getting up he peels off his pants and underwear and uses a napkin to wipe up the rest of the evidence from his orgasm. His mind is fuzzy, stomach warm likes he's drunk honeyed milk, as he pulls on a fresh pair of bottoms.

Waiting a bit, he returns to the kitchen once his breathing is back to normal only to find his plate cleared. His mom's almost done eating, but slides the rest of her plate over for him.

"Boyfriend?" She asks after a moment and Matt almost chokes on his toast.

"Uhm no, just Mello." He says once he knows he wont die via french toast. The lie makes his stomach turn but he'd rather her think he's texting Mello, than knowing that he's having phone sex with his best friend's dad.

"Oh, how is he?" She asks. "I hope he's not too torn up now that his dad's gone. Dara always gave me a bad feeling."

"He's good, and he hasn't mentioned anything." Matt tells her, heart in his throat as he thinks of last night.

The rest of breakfast is filled with talk of life in LA, his mom asking him everything from how school's been to if he's gotten a boyfriend yet. That's one of the things he loves about his mom, how accepting she is about him being gay. It was never a problem for her, not like it was for his dad, and the fact that she loves him so much makes him feel seven times lighter.

...

They spend most of the day, touring around Vegas, his mom showing him the sights and shops. It's in a particular shop that he sees them, the orange goggles that he'd worn last night, hanging on a sales rack in a punk shop. He'd left the original pair on the floor in the room at the club when he'd run out to meet his mom and seeing an identical pair makes his insides drop. Plucking them off the rack, he pays for them and slips them around his neck. He mom rolls her eyes at him and they continue on.

When it's time for his mom to go to work, she lets him stay home, telling him that she's working the graveyard shift and that he won't have anything to do. She leaves at nine, promising to be back at six o'clock.

When she's gone, he gives into temptation to text Dara and asks to come over. Dara's reply is quick, giving him instructions to a hotel on the outer edge of the city. It's a bit of a ride by cab but Matt makes it in under thirty minutes. Dara opens the door, pants hanging low on his hips and Matt licks his lips at the sight.

"Well, are you gonna stand out in the cold or come in and get undressed?" Dara asks, the muscles in his arms rippling as he crosses them over his chest and Matt wants to bite them.

Instead he ducks around Dara and waits for him to close the door before letting himself be pulled against the wall. Dara goes straight for his shoulder, teeth sinking into the bruise already there and Matt's knees buckle. It's unbelievably hot when Dara catches him, holds him up against his chest as he rubs his clothed cock into his ass.

Matt closes his eyes, tips his head back to give the older man more room and moans when a hand comes around to cup him through his jeans. Then he's being pushed onto the couch, Dara straddling him with his crotch in Matt's face like an order. Matt knows what he wants and when Dara traps his hands against the couch fire shoots through his veins.

Leaning forward, he licks over the hot line of Dara's cock through his slacks before tugging the zipper down with his teeth. It's hard, harder than it looks in the porn he's watched, and he thanks god that Dara was nice enough to unbutton his pants beforehand. That doesn't mean that by the time he nudges Dara's fly open with his chin that his teeth don't hurt, because _they do_. But the ache is nothing compared to the one that runs deep into his body at the approving look Dara gives him.

His phone rings in his pocket, sending vibrations to his cock and he groans. Dara retrieves it, flicks the screen on and for a moment Matt's terrified that it's Mello. That's one explanation he wants to avoid for the rest of his life. Not daring to move his hands, he watches Dara raise an eyebrow at the message on the screen before sitting the phone face-down on the side table so Matt can't see. Running a hand through red hair, he curls his fingers and fists Matt's hair in a way that tugs but doesn't hurt. Using his hold he guides Matt back to his cock and Matt wants to grab him and take him into his mouth. Before Dara, he'd never thought giving a blow job could be so good but when he finally gets his underwear out of the way and Dara's lying thick and heavy on his tongue he feels like crying in ecstasy. Because if _this_ isn't the best thing in the world then he wants Dara to show him what is.

Mello's dad makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat as Matt takes him in and pulls him forward until Matt's nose is buried in his pubes and his eyes are filling with tears. It's too much but Dara strokes the side of his face and murmurs a proud _'Good boy.' _and he doesn't mind. He breathes through his nose, feeling tears, spit, and sweat wetting his face. When Dara draws back and pushes back in, he holds his mouth open and lets him fuck his face, moans every time Dara hit's the back of his throat.

Dara's shaking, fingers petting at Matt's hair as the muscles in his abs shiver, and Matt waits for Dara to plunge back in before closing his mouth and_ sucking_. The older man makes a strangled noise, fingers clenching and unclenching as his hips stutter. It's when Matt tongues at Dara's slit that heat floods his mouth. He tries to swallow, chokes a little at just how much there is and when Dara pulls out he pulls in a big breath.

Dara climbs off of him, drags him down the couch as he kneels between his legs until his hips are hanging off. The angle hurts his neck a little but when Dara pulls his pants and underwear off in order to spread his legs Matt's mind goes blank. He clenches his hands into the couch cushions and watches as Dara rips open a packet of lube.

Two fingers slip into him, and the fact that they can makes Matt's eyes flutter closed. They're still closed when Dara slips something inside him and next thing he knows, his whole world is shaking. His eyes shoot open and he _howls_, but Dara holds him down as he dips his tongue into Matt's ass and god, that's, that's...

"Fuck. Oh my god, ohmyfuckinggod daddy, _please_." Matt begs, pupils blown as Dara fucks him with his tongue. It feels even more amazing and dirty than last night, now that his insides are thrumming in the most beautiful way. His hands haven't moved, not even an inch and Dara gives him a pleased look before placing his lips over Matt's rim and sucking. Matt's hips arch up as his orgasm rips through him but Dara circles the base of his cock with his thumb and ring finger, holding him tight until Matt's release subsides back into him.

When he releases him, Matt's painfully hard and he just might be sobbing but Dara's fingers replace his tongue as his other hand slips a ring over Matt's cock. He rolls it down to the base and nudges the vibrator against his prostate and Matt's reality flies to pieces. He comes back to himself what may be minutes or hours later, he doesn't know, and Dara's gone. The vibrator's gone too but the rings still around his cock and he leaves it there a he pads to the kitchen. Dara's in there, drinking from a water bottle and Matt momentarily gets caught up in watching his adam's apple bob as he swallows. Then Matt's gaze trails over his still naked body to see his cock hanging heavy between his legs and his mouth waters.

"Welcome back." He tells him as he pulls Matt against his chest . He sways a little and Matt shivers as Dara's swelling cock slots between his cheeks, head catching at his entrance in a way that has Matt aching for it. It reminds Matt of the fact that that cock hasn't been _inside_ him yet tonight and he has to change that, like now.

"Come on daddy, I want you to fuck me already." Matt tells him and Dara growls, bending him low over the table as he presses into him. He's still stretched from earlier and just how quickly Dara's cock slides into him makes him want to cry. Instead he scrambles at the wood of the table and pushes himself back on Dara's dick with a needy sound as the older man takes hold of his waist. Dara pushes into, making him fuller than he thought possible, goes deeper with each thrust, feels like he's sending up a prayer with each brush against his prostate.

He wants to cry when Dara rolls the ring off his cock, but his minds whites out and his ears ring as his orgasm crashes through him like a tsunami wave.

"You did so good Matty baby." Dara tells him as he releases inside him and it takes a bit for those words to sink in. But when they do, he goes cold, mind shutting down as Dara pulls out of him. When he stays laying over the table, Dara crouches down at eye level, slate eyes flickering as he reads the expression on Matt's face. "Oh come on Little Red, you honestly thought I didn't know it was you?"He sounds so damn condescending that Matt want to punch him in the face, but then he kind of wants to crawl into a hole somewhere and die too.

He makes a low, hurt noise when Dara picks him up, exhausted limbs trying to push himself out of the older man's arms. When Dara drops him on the couch he turns his back to him and reaches for his pants. Dara simply sighs as he watches him get dressed, interfering only to settle Matt's goggles on his nose better. Matt does punch him then, anger, guilt, and a healthy dosage of wrongness flooded through him. It's like a flood gate and pretty soon he's clawing at those beautiful muscles with the intent to hurt. It ends with Dara pinning him to the wall beside the door, breath on his neck as Matt fights back the urge to cry.

When Dara let's him go, Matt turns and stabs a finger into his chest. "This isn't happening again." He tells him and Dara nods as he yanks the door open and storms out, a knowing smirk on his lips.

"Hey kiddo," Dara calls and Matt clenches his fists only to stop when he looks to see the older man holding his phone out. "Forgot this." And it's like he's dangling a bone in front of a dog but Matt swallows the feeling of hatred and self-disgust as he turns and retrieves it. Dara hands it to him, presses a kiss to the top of his head before he can get away and the words he whispers into Matt's hair makes the tears start to roll.

...

_You never forget your first. _Matt hears Dara's voice in his head as the rides another cab back to his mom's. He keeps the tears somewhat in check until he's home, but when he get's in the house he goes straight to his mom's bed. She's not there but her smell is, so he presses his face into her pillows and pretends she' holding him as he sobs.

It's not that he's just realized how wrong what he's done is. No, he's known it from the beginning but at least then he'd thought he could get something good out of it before he watched Dara crumble over what he'd done. But Dara had known it was him from the start and that makes it so much worse, because now he's not getting back at Mello's asshole of a dad. He let him fuck him, and that's his fault.

It makes him sick, makes him want to crawl out of his skin and scrub until he feels clean again. Getting up, he goes into the hall bathroom and peels his clothes off for a shower. He turns it as hot as he can, until his tears feel cool in comparison and washes himself. When he slips two fingers into his ass to clean out Dara's cum, he doesn't get hard. Instead he heaves and he barely has time to hunch over the toilet before he's throwing up and collapsing.

The water's freezing and his skin is wrinkled by the time he gets out and he grabs his phone from his counter and heads straight to his bedroom to get dressed. Once he's clothed, he flicks his phone's screen on to see a text from Mello. It's the one that came in while he was sucking Dara off and the thought makes him want to throw up, makes his throat feel tight and strangled.

_'Hey, how's the visit with your mom going?' _Mello asks and Matt sends back a short '_fine'_ before collapsing onto his bed. When his phone vibrates again he ignores it, not able to bear it if it's Mello or, god forbid, Dara. So he curls up into his blanket and cries some more, because that's all he can do.

When his moms gets home and peeks into his room, he's fast asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>I honestly don't know why writing this is so addicting. But, just, ohmygod, I can't express how much I enjoy it. There might be (probably) a third part, but until then leave your thoughts in a review. <strong>

**P.S: Hope you liked it Matty!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings: Underage sex, statutory rape, explicit language, unintentional voyeurism.**

**A/N: Part three, in which someone new comes in. Yay!**

**News: I created a playlist for this story on youtube. The link is on my profile page here on FFNet. So go listen to it! **

_Hold my hands above my head  
>And push my face into the bed<br>Cause I'm a screamer baby, make me a mute  
>You put your hand upon my neck and feel the pulse beat, beat, beat, beat<br>It's like a trigger, get me ready to shoot_

**Flesh by Simon Curtis**

* * *

><p>Matt doesn't see Dara for the rest of his stay with his mom. (Not to say, he doesn't <em>think<em> about him.) Before he knows it the summer is over, it's time for him to go back to California and his mom is dropping him off at the airport. She hugs him tight when they pull up to the drop-off lane, makes him promise to call her, before letting him go. She doesn't have tears in her eyes but Matt does, even if he wipes them away before she can see.

He checks his phone to see a text from Dara and deletes it, shoving his cell into his backpack next to the pair of orange goggles. His fingers pause, stroke the lenses and he shivers. He pretends it's because of the blast of cool air as he enters the airport but his stomach is telling him something completely different. Oh well, they're done. He and Dara are done and he's never seeing him again.

Once he's settled on the plane, he tucks in his headphones, gets out his DS and turns it on as his music starts. He plays it for half the flight, before his head starts hurting and he has to close his eyes. He's drifting off when he feels a tap on his shoulder and looks up to see a curly haired ginger flight attendant smiling down at him.

"Sorry to bother you sweetheart," She says, voice sweet as honey when he takes an earbud out. "But there's a gentleman in first class that wants to see you."

Matt knows who that "gentleman" is, doesn't even have to ask, but he gets up anyway because the attendant looks like someone's threatened her job. And if he knows Dara as well as he thinks he does then that's probably the case. She looks relieved when he gets up, grabbing his bag from the overhead compartment as she turns to lead the way through the dividers. When they get to the first class compartment, she stops at the service section and closes the door (not a curtain like lower class had, Matt thinks more than a bit waspishly) to give them some privacy. Dara's waiting for him, dressed in a dark grey suit with a royal blue tie. His suit jacket is folded over the back of his chair, leaving him in his vest, shirt and slacks and Matt, like he had seeing Dara only in a pair of low slung jeans, licks his lips subconsciously. The outfit makes his eyes look less grey, more blue, and all Matt can think is how much he'd look like Mello if his hair was longer.

Dara smiles at him over the rim of his glass and gestures at the chair across from him with a commanding 'sit'.

"So are you stalking me now?" Matt asks, refusing to sit. The fact that he can look down at Dara makes him feel better, like he has some sense of control over the situation.

Dara rolls his eyes and taps his fingers against his whiskey glass. "I finished a business project in Vegas for my company. Now I'm going back to oversee things in California. Not everything is about you Matt." The '_but it can be_' is in Dara's eyes and Matt feels his throat tighten.

"You know that Mello hates you, right?" Matt tells him. It's more of a statement than a question and Dara's expression closes off. It makes Matt proud and a little sick at the same time. "There's nothing left for you in California. And I told you, we're through."

"You're going to get tired of saying that." And suddenly he's in Dara's lap as the plane rocks. Matt wants to blame him for it but then that'd be childish. Still, he takes a pathetic sense of glee as Dara shakes spilled alcohol off his hand, voice filled with annoyance as he mutters "Turbulence".

Matt gets distracted by the movement of his lips now that he's so close. He wants to kiss him but at the same time he want to run away. It's confusing to say the least. When he gets up Dara lets him and continues. "I wanted to invite you to continue the rest of the flight up here. Coach doesn't seem that comfortable."

"It's not exactly that comfortable being up here with you either." Matt shoots back and Dara gives him a look as if he's talking to a child that needs to be spanked. Matt thinks of himself bent over Dara's knee as he spanks him and his breath catches in his throat. Dara smirks and Matt sits.

...

Matt ignores Dara (well, as much as he _can_) for the rest of the flight and then afterward when the man offers him a ride home. Dara seems more amused than anything by his continued resistance, as if there's no point, and that makes Matt angry. Even so, when three hours pass and there's still no sign of his dad, he kind of wishes he had accepted. He manages to bum a dollar off of some of the people waiting for their flights and uses the pay phone to call his father.

"Thierry Jeevas speaking," His dad answers after the third ring and something about hearing his voice makes Matt's throat close.

Clearing it, he hopes that his voice doesn't crack when he says "Hey dad, it's Matt. I was wondering if you were planning on picking me up from the airport?"

"Shit." His dad's voice looses its business tone and there's a loud rustle as he moves. "I completely forgot that was today kiddo, sorry."

"That's okay." _It's only been three hours_, Matt thinks but then feels guilty as his dad promises to 'be there as soon as possible'. There's another text, this time from Mello, when he hangs up and he opens it with a swipe of his finger.

_'Can you come over?'_

Matt opens a reply box, ready to type an immediate _'sure'_, but then he thinks about it, worries that Dara might be there.

_'Not today. kinda tired.'_ He sends back and Mello replies with _'Jetlag?'_

_'Yeah'_ Mello doesn't reply until his dad arrives to pick him up.

_'Tomorrow then'_ And Matt smiles because he's missed Mello so damn much. _'Sure :D'_

...

His dad looks an unhealthy mix of stressed and tired when Matt gets in the car. There's more lines on his face and he looks a lot older than his forty two years warrants. Still, he smiles when he sees Matt, pulling him into a brief hug before moving back into the stilted airport traffic.

"How was your summer?" Thierry asks as Matt settles his bag on the floor between his legs.

"Good. Mom's doing a lot better." He doesn't mention the casino, doesn't want to think about it. "We went sight seeing."

His dad raises an eyebrow. "All summer?"

"Well...she took me to her job. Anyway, how was LA without me?" Matt asks in an attempt to redirect.

"Boring," His dad says automatically with a grin and Matt laughs.

"We both knew it would be." His dad nods.

"But at the moment I'm dealing with a mountain of paperwork. It seems some big shot company is trying to buy us out and I have to figure out a way to keep them from pulling the rug from underneath us."

"Which company?" Matt asks, because it's normal for his dad to involve him in his work. They've done it since he was a kid and if Thierry ever runs into a problem that he needs to talk out then Matt's the one he goes to.

"Uhm it's...fuck. It just left my mind. They're a computer software manufacturer," He snaps his fingers a couple of times. "Code something."

"Kodewear?" Matt says, a sense of dread settling over him as his dad makes a triumphant noise.

"Yeah, you know them?" His dad doesn't sound puzzled at all, but that's because Matt's always been the tech savvy one in the family, even if his dad is CEO of an internet security company.

"Mello's dad owns the company." Matt tells him, voice neutral even as an indignant rage starts eating at him. "Speaking of Mello, do you think you could drop me off at his house?"

His dad sounds a little hurt when he answers, but Matt's too busy imagining kicking Dara in the nuts to notice. "Sure kiddo, let me know when you need to be picked up. I have something I want to show you before work tomorrow."

When his dad drops him off in front of the Kheel household he doesn't even bother to knock, just opens the front door and runs to Mello's parents' room where he knows Dara will be.

When he sees him, his mind whites out with rage and he's shouting, punching and clawing at Dara, because he can't breath he's so angry.

"How dare you!" He screams as Dara takes hold of his wrists. He struggles, kicks out at the older man's knees until Dara has to pin him to the bed. "Everything my dad worked for! And you're trying to fuck it up and for what? For what?! Because we fucked?! Do you think that's going to get me to let you-" The rest is cut off as Matt lets out an angry shout and attempts to knock his head into Dara's, which Mello's dad avoids. His lips are thinned in anger, his perfect suit wrinkled and blonde hair tousled.

Dara takes his wrist in one hand, pins them palm down against Matt's stomach and straddles him. "Stop being a brat." He tells him, voice a hiss and Matt can't breath around the outrage clogging his throat. "Me buying out your dad's company had nothing to do with us."

The way he says 'us' makes Matt's stomach flutter and heat, pulse racing under Dara's fingers. He sags under Dara's weight, anger dissipating even if he's satisfied to see that Dara now has a split lip. Mello's dad licks at the cut, eyes flashing with _something_ and Matt can't help it. He's turned on. He has no reason to be but when Dara rolls his hips Matt can't _focus_.

"I should make you apologize for that." Dara's other hand brushes over the pulse point in Matt's neck, then down to his crotch and Matt can't help but groan. "Should make you beg for forgiveness."

Matt's mind fuzzes at the _heat_ in his voice, goes haywire as Dara kneads him through his jeans. It hurts in a good way, the friction making him crazy and, god, he feels like it's been forever.

"Sorry," He breathes and Dara shakes his head, humming before he licks a hot line up Matt's throat.

"Not good enough baby." He says, breath cooling his saliva on Matt's skin and Matt shivers, rolls his hips up in want. Dara releases one of his hands, watches as Matt's fingers open for him with a satisfied expression and presses it against his groin. Matt can feel how hard he is, how turned on Matt can make him, and it makes him proud, like he's solved a complex algorithm in math class or outsmarted Mello for once.

"I think you'll have to show me how sorry you are." Dara says, voice husky as he flips them and it does things to Matt's insides, makes his toes curl in a sort of volcanic bliss. "Make it up to me."

Matt can do that, knows he can as Dara moves them back towards the headboard. He rolls his hips, breath hitching and eyes fluttering as their dicks rub together through their pants. Undoing Dara's tie with shaking fingers, he tugs it free, get's a thrill out of the way the silky fabric slips through his fingers.

"Put your hands behind your back." Dara commands, taking the tie from Matt's hands and Matt does, because he _knows_ what Dara's thinking and it makes him want in a way only Dara can. He bites his lip when Dara ties his hands, tugs the rope and knows that the only way he's getting free is when Dara let's him. It makes a thrill of fear/want blaze through him and he wants nothing more than to ride be fucked senseless right then and there.

The thing about having his hands tied is that he can't strip that suit of Dara's body like he wants to. He has to sit back and watch as Dara unbuttons his vest and shirt, shrugging the former item off before undoing his pants. He lifts Matt up and lays him on his back as he gets out of his bottoms and Matt can't help the cat-like sound that crawls out of his throat when he catches sight of Dara's cock through his briefs. Dara gives a satisfied smile when Matt arches his hips, tugging his jeans down until he can throw them to the side. They hit the closet door and that smile turns boyish, devilish as he kisses the skin right above Matt's boxers.

"Look at you, so ready for me." Dara says, chin nudging the head of Matt's cock and Matt bucks up, silently begging for more.

"Oh fuck," He breathes and whines as Dara slides a hand into his underwear, palming at the head of his dick. "Fuck, I need you inside me. Right now."

Dara tilts his head, licks at the precum on his hand and _fuck_. "Is that any way to ask for things?" He says and Matt wants to cry.

"Please daddy, I want you to fuck me." He says and keens as Dara gives him a few quick pumps.

"Are you sure? I could blow you, jack you off while you fuck my mouth." And that image makes Matt squirm, because he wants it _so fucking bad_. But he wants to be filled more. So he shakes his head and lifts his hips in a silent plea. Next thing he knows, he's being flipped over before Dara's rooting around in the drawer beside the bed.

There's the pop of a cap and Matt hisses when cool lube dribbles over his entrance. Dara's quick about massaging it around his rim until it's warm, one of his fingers going in a little too fast. But Matt likes the ache it gives, lets out a shuddering breath as Dara works him open. When the second one's in he starts to rock, trying to get _something_ but Dara removes them and gives his ass a firm smack. Biting his lip against the sound that wants to escape, he breaths against the sheets as Dara adds the third finger.

Dara's patient about it, stroking Matt open and playing him like an instrument. It makes Matt hot in an unimaginable way, makes him want to scream and beg for Dara to just fuck him already. But Dara keeps his pace, fingers leaving blazing trails on Matt's insides as he works Matt into a sweating, moaning mess. Matt's about to start begging, unaware that he already has, when Dara presses two fingers into his prostate. He thrashes, trying to pull away and simultaneously get closer as sparks flash before his eyes

Then Dara's gone, leaving Matt face down and breathless on the bed as he leans back against the headboard. Matt looks over his shoulder to see Dara stroking lube onto his dick and the sight makes Matt moan, his own dick jumping to attention against his stomach.

"I want you to ride me." Dara tells him, eyes hooded as he works his hand along the length of his cock. When Matt simply stares at him he sighs, lifts him up, turns him around and sets him over his legs.

"Do you want fast or slow?" Matt asks and Dara smiles, slow and heated. He doesn't answer the question though and Matt knows that the decision's up to him, that Dara won't do any of the work as the older man folds his hands behind his head. Walking on his knees until he's lined up with Dara's dick, he shimmies down, a frustrated sound slipping from his throat as his cock glances over Matt's entrance but doesn't go in. His eyes sting, feeling like his senses have short circuited. After a few more tries, he gets it, moaning as Dara's length slips into him inch by inch. He's big, just like he was the first time and Matt lets out a shaky sigh at the feeling of being stretched.

It's a good burn, makes him want to moan like a whore as he reaches the base. Dara's eyes are fluttering, muscles flexing, and Matt imagines that his control is a frayed string that he needs to snap. He wants Dara undone, wants him a mess like Matt always is when they fuck. It's a bit much to hope for but he takes satisfaction in the breathless noise Dara makes as he clenches around him. Giving a wicked grin he flexes his legs, lifting up a little before dropping down again. The moan that escapes is real, punched out as the head of Dara's dick hits him square in that bundle of nerves that sets his world on fire. He rides Dara, breathing in rhythm with the rise and fall of his hips until his legs start to ache, muscles burning with the effort to keep going. He's getting tired and Dara knows it because he smiles, settling back a little more.

Letting out a frustrated cry, Matt leans forward and nips at Dara's split lip. "Don't make me do all the work daddy, I want you to fuck me." He tries but Dara doesn't fall for it, merely trails his lips down to plant kisses along Matt's neck and jaw.

"You haven't earned it yet Red." He whispers against his skin and Matt groans. _And how do I earn it_, he want to ask but he knows that Dara will never make it that easy. It's not until he's leaning against Dara's shoulder, breaths coming in nearly silent sobs as his hips stutter to a stop that Dara moves his hands down to his waist. Lifting Matt up, he clenches his fingers into the hollows of his hips and brings him back down in one quick thrust.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, just like that daddy, don't stop." Matt babbles as Dara fucks into him, the sweep of his t-shirt against his cock driving him insane in the best of ways. Matt's crying, tears choking his throat until he can't breath it's so good and still he wants more. Dara get's it though, shows that he does when he pushes Matt down onto the bed so the redhead can wrap his legs around his waist as he fucks him. It's when one of Dara's hands come up to tangle and tug at his hair that Matt comes apart, his entire world shaking as he chokes on a scream.

Dara moans, moving into him faster as Matt clenches around him, and Matt arches, a sob making it's way out of his lungs.

"God, you're so beautiful," Dara whispers as his own climax washes though him. Matt's whole body feels like it's coming apart, limbs aching and tingling as his stomach does somersaults. Lifting him up, Dara releases his hands from the tie and lays him out on the bed. Matt shudders and sighs as Dara's fingers slip into him, stroking him through his aftershocks.

Letting out a sated moan as Dara smears cum-slick fingers along his lower back he looks up and meets blue eyes through the blinds of the closet and feels his whole world crumble beneath him.

* * *

><p><strong>Cliffhanger! As always, I hope you liked it, and look forward to your thoughts. I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea but I worked hard at it.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings: Bad touch, explicit language, statutory rape, angst (god, so much angst), unhealthy relationships, exhibitionism, voyeurism, explicit sexual content. **

_Oh, I don't know why you're not there_  
><em>I give you my love, but you don't care<em>  
><em>So what is right and what is wrong<em>  
><em>Gimme a sign<em>  
><em>What is love<em>

**Adagio For Strings by Bastille**

* * *

><p>When Dara leaves, Matt quickly pulls his pants over his hips and leaves. He doesn't wait for the closet to open, because he can't face Mello, not after that. He's going so fast that he doesn't even notice his best friend at the bottom of the stairs until he runs into him, sending Mello, himself, and the bag the blonde was carrying across the foyer.<p>

"Jesus Matt, what the hell are you doing?" Mello snaps, voice angry but his eyes are smiling and Matt wants to cry in relief. Wrapping his arms around Mello, he hugs him tight until the blonde jabs a finger in his ribs.

"He's leaving hun," A voice comes from the top of the stairs and Matt turns to see Mello's mother at the top of the staircase, blue eyes shining with a veiled sort of anger and disgust that makes the redhead's stomach drop. It's then that Matt knows it was her who was in the closet, not Mello, and he wonders how she ended up there. If she hid when he stormed in and if Dara knew she was there. That thought makes Matt feel sick, like Dara's used him, but then maybe he hasn't.

"Mom, he just got here." Mello points out as his mom makes her way down to where they're still sprawled on the ground.

"I know, but his father needs him home for something important." She tells him and when Mello huffs and turns to pick up his spilled bag she gives Matt this look, like he's dirt that's marring her white marble floors. "Isn't that right, Matty dear?"

The way she says Matty makes him feel cold. It holds none of the heat that it had when Dara said it, none of the genuine happiness when Mello says it either. Clearing his throat, Matt stands up and smiles apologetically at Mello.

"Yeah sorry, apparently Dad has this big project going on that he needs my help with." He tells him and the lie is so easy. Maybe it's because it's half true or maybe it's that he's just gotten so good at lying to the people he loves since this whole thing with Dara started.

"Well...I guess I'll see you later then." Mello tells him, voice disappointed as he takes his stuff into the den.

"At school." Matt promises and Mello shouts back a quick "No, sooner!" before disappearing around the corner. Dara appears at the top of the stairs and Nichole Kheel gives both of them a look so filled with hatred that Matt feels like his balls just might retreat back into his body in fear.

"I want both of you out of my house. Dara, that isn't new for you." She tells them, then rounds on Matt. "I can't mediate Mello's time with you at school, but I'm letting you know right now; if I find either of you here again I'm calling the cops."

When Matt opens his mouth to protest, and really, what could he possibly say, Nichole holds up a hand with a sharp sound. "Not a word! Now get out."

Flushing up to his neck, Matt turns toward the door, not even waiting to see what Dara is saying to his wife. He pulls his phone out and calls his dad to come pick him up, fingers shaking as he types the numbers.

"That was quick, kiddo." His dad says and Matt swallows thickly when Dara steps out of the house, a slap mark clear on his cheek.

"Well, Mello had a thing he had to work on with his mom, so they cast me off the island."

"Okay then. I'll be there in a couple minutes." His dad says and is about to cut the call when Matt opens his mouth again.

"Hey dad," Matt's voice is thick, but he knows he needs to say it, needs to _hear_ it. "I love you. And, ya' know, thanks."

It's silent for a bit, then, "Love you too, Mail."

And that makes him want to cry, want to bawl right there on the sidewalk. Dara walks closer but doesn't touch him, just stands by his side until Matt's dad's car round the corner. Matt doesn't say anything on the ride home, doesn't realize they are home until he's halfway through the door. And his dad's not following him.

"Dad?"

"In the garage Matt." His dad calls and when he rounds the front of the house to find him his vision blurs.

"I found it in a lot while you were at your mom's and got one of my friends to fix it up." His dad explains, hands on his hips as he watches Matt. Matt's speechless, just stares at the red and black Chevrolet like it's a miracle.

"Dad..." He starts, closes his mouth because he can't think of anything to say.

His dad is just as awkward as he is, shuffling as he takes off his cap and runs a hand through his brown hair. "I figured since you were getting your permit soon, it'd be a good idea to get you a car to drive. Consider it an extra early birthday present. I didn't know if you'd like the colors but..." His dad rambles and stumbles off into nothing as Matt wraps him into a hug. They don't really hug that often, but now Matt just presses his face into his dad's chest and takes a shuddering breath. After a bit, his dad shifts and pats his back, letting Matt know that the man feels are getting to be a bit too much, but that's okay.

"I love it." He tells him and grins when his dad tugs his baseball cap onto his head as he nudges Matt to the side with a laugh.

"Okay enough with the girly stuff. We need to hunt down something to eat in that house." His dad tells him and Matt gapes.

"I restocked the fridge and the pantry before I left for mom's!" He says as they enter the house, making straight for the kitchen to see what damage his dad has done. It's surprisingly clean but there's nothing in the way of food outside of a pack of flour tortillas, a jar of relish, a jar of crunchy peanut butter, and two sticks of butter.

"Unbelievable." He mutters and turns a glare onto his dad. "I'm going to have to go to store, but for now I guess we can order something."

"Like pizza." His dad says hopefully and Matt shrugs. His dad looks incredulous for a bit, because Matt's usually the one that forbids him from eating unhealthy in the hopes that his dad will live longer. But Thierry Jeevas is never a man that looks a prize horse in the mouth so he grabs the phone and retreats to safe ground in the other room.

"No meat trios!" Matt yells as he grabs the second pair of keys, _his keys_, off the hook by the door. Just because he doesn't have a permit yet, doesn't mean he can't drive. Heck, he's known how to work a stick shift since he was twelve thanks to his dad's best friend Tony.

He gets to the store no problem and grabs a cart as he goes through a mental list of what they'll need. Which is, in short, _everything_. For now though, he just grabs the basics like eggs, milk, and sandwich fixings before checking out. When he gets home, the pizza still hasn't arrived, but the delivery guys still has a couple minutes. His dad's voice floats in from his office as Matt puts the groceries away and the redhead nearly drops the jar of mayonnaise when he here's Dara's name. Setting the jar down, he inches toward the hall outside his dad's office to listen in.

"Well I know that but the negotiations aren't closed yet. I can talk to him at least." His dad says, pausing as whoever's on the other line speaks. "I know that and both Cheryl and Amy ran the numbers, _twice_. There's no way we can make a counteroffer to keep the company without clearing our accounts completely."

Another pause as his dad lets out a sigh. "Yes. No, of course I understand, but maybe I can get him to reconsider." His dad says and Matt backs back into the kitchen quietly, nearly jumping out of his skin when the doorbell rings. He opens it to find a delivery boy holding a mountain of pizza boxes and makes a mental note to kill his dad.

"Having a party?" The boy asks and Matt gestures for him to come inside.

"Not exactly." He tells him as his dad rounds the corner, wallet in hand and a guilty look on his face. "Half of these better be vegetarian." He tells him as his dad pulls two twenties out of his wallet. Opening one of the boxes, Matt sighs at all the greasy meat that's piled on it and takes off two slices to wrap in a paper towel. He hands it to the delivery boy once they reach the door, waving off the thanks before shutting the door behind him.

He returns to the kitchen to find his dad gone with at least two of the pizza boxes and shakes his head. "I hope it was worth it!" He shouts and rolls his eyes when his dad doesn't reply. Probably doesn't want to give away his position in the hopes of keeping the pizza to himself. It's as he's walking up to his room with his own plate of pizza that he thinks over his dad's phone call, thinks that maybe his dad can't reason with Dara, but _he can_.

...

He waits until his dad is at work the next day to visit Dara. If Mello's dad works the kind of hours that Thierry does then he'll be in his office too, or at least Matt hopes. The suit clad droids around the office building give his car a sort of sneering glance when he parks and that look reappears in the receptionist's eyes when he asks to speak to Dara.

"Mr Kheel isn't seeing visitors at the moment." She tells him, voice dismissive as she looks back down at her computer screen.

Matt sighs, resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I highly doubt that." But he's ignored as the woman makes an annoyed sound directed at her computer and picks up the phone.

"Berry? Hey, it's Carol; I need you to come take a look at my computer again. No, it's the same problem." She glares as Matt leans over her desk to see her screen.

"Try clearing out the junk files, cache, and recycling bin." Matt tells her and she pulls her phone away from her ear.

"Excuse me, what?"

Matt sighs and walks around the desk, ignoring the look she gives him as he does. "You're using way too much RAM," He opens up the performance report in a few quick clicks. "Clear out any unnecessary files and run a defragment. And hang up on Berry, because if he didn't catch that the last time then he needs a new job."

The secretary opens and closes her mouth a few times before hanging up the phone and doing as he asks. Once the defragmenter is running she picks up the phone again. "Can I get your name please?"

"Matt, just Matt." She gives him an odd look but punches in a number, phone cradled against her shoulder.

"Hey boss, I've got a Matt in the front here to see you. No, no appointment, just a walk in. Oh, okay. Okay, thank you, bye." She hangs it up and gives him a sugar sweet smile.

"It's the twelfth floor, last door on the right. " She tells him and he thanks her before going to the elevators.

He finds Dara in his office, a file in his hand as he reads. Matt smiles as he approaches the desk, notices how Dara rolls his chair back a little even as he continues reading. "God, you still use paper?"

That earns him a look, or more specifically, _the_ look. The look that makes his stomach drop and his heart flutter.

"I like it. Having something I can touch, something I can run my fingers over and mark." Dara tells him, the tip of his mouth tugging up in a half smile, half smirk. It makes him look boyish in a way that he shouldn't, like he's half the thirty six that he actually is. He closes the file and sits it down, giving Matt his full attention. "But you're not hear to talk about my tactility, are you?"

The _maybe later_ is on the tip of Matt's tongue, but he bites it back and clears his throat. "I want you to back out of the negotiations to buy my dad's company."

Dara lifts an eyebrow and leans back into his chair. "I can't say I wasn't expecting that." He mutters and Matt rolls his eyes. "But you're going to need a little more than that to get me to change my mind kiddo. A business opportunity like this doesn't come often in a career."

"But it will come again." Matt points out. "My dad worked hard to get where he is. That company is his life."

"And you think this company isn't mine?" Dara asks and Matt feels a sense of doubt wash over him. "You're asking for me to give up something that most businessmen would froth at the mouth for, Matty."

"What if I make it worth your wile?" Matt offers, looking over his shoulder to make sure that the door is closed. Dara's eyebrows draw together at that, the knowledge of what Matt's putting on the table shining in his eyes.

Still, he makes it difficult. "What, exactly, would you be proposing?" He ask as Matt comes around the desk and drops to his knees.

"A blow job for starters," Matt tells him as his fingers work to undo Dara's belt. "Here, now,_ in your office_."

Unbuttoning Dara's slacks he moves into the space beneath the desk, shielded from everything but Dara by the panel at his back.

"I can't say I'm opposed to the idea." Dara says, voice husky as he watches Matt tug his zipper down. Matt pauses there, breath puffing over Dara's cock. The older man's already half hard and that gets Matt's blood boiling, makes his jeans tighten in response.

"Good," Matt says shortly as he moves Dara's underwear out of the way and plants open mouthed kisses along the length of Dara's cock. He flicks his tongue out as Dara groans, cat-like and quick. Fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down his spine as he takes Dara into his mouth, working him until he's fully erect. He opens his mouth more, takes him in bit by bit until the corners of his lips hurt.

Dara holds back his moan, head tilting back as Matt gets him wet enough to slide in just that much more. Bringing a hand up to circle around Dara's base, he uses the other to hold the older man's hip still as he bobs his head. It's harder than he remembers now that he's not in a sexed-out haze, now that he has to mind his teeth beyond the occasional light scrape. Dara makes a noise halfway between a growl and a purr when he hits the back of Matt's throat and the redhead flattens his tongue, willing himself not to gag. There are tears in his eyes now, vision blurring at the edges as water collects but doesn't fall. He must make a sight, mouth wrapped around Dara's dick with tears brimming in his eyes. The mental image makes him moan, vibrations traveling through Dara's length like gasp inducing aftershocks to an earthquake.

It takes everything in Matt not to jump when the phone rings and, even so, his head smacks the top of the desk. Dara hisses, using the hand in his hair to tug him off as he answers the call.

Matt's gasping as he listens in, a string of saliva connecting him to Dara before he licks it away. Dara ends the call without him catching a thing, well, except his breath, before the blonde gives him a look. A dress shoe clad foot works it's way between his legs as he takes Dara back into his mouth, sole nudging him through his jeans as he groans. The dry friction hurts in a good way, makes him moan as precum wets his underwear. He cuts off, mid-sound when he hears the door to Dara's office open, watches as Dara gives a welcoming smile.

"Thierry, good to finally get to speak with you in person." Dara says and Matt's whole body locks up, mouth going slack until the tip of Dara's dick hits the roof of his mouth.

"Likewise, your receptionist said you were with someone...but I guess she was mistaken." Matt's dad sounds puzzled and Dara lets out a laugh.

"They actually just left; had other business to attend to I suppose." Dara says, fingers tightening until Matt gives an obedient bob of his head. One of his thumbs strokes Matt's temple, like a physical praise, and his stomach curls. He tucks his feet in, like his Dad might be able to _see_ him and focuses on not making a sound as he slides down to the tip of Dara's dick. He sucks on it lightly, pointing his tongue into the slit, then down to the dip underneath as he travels along the bottom. Dara glances down at him, the heat in his eyes making Matt's insides burn even as cold pinpricks dance along his spine.

"I wanted to speak with you about your bid to buy my company." Matt's dad begins, voice hitting Matt in the gut because he's _so fucking close_. The fact that one wrong move, one discriminating sound could get him caught with Dara's cock halfway down his throat makes him cringe. But at the same time it makes some dark, Dara induced part of him want to moan. Except the fact that it's his _dad_, but he figures that as long as he doesn't physically see his father then he'll be fine. Dara's foot rubs into him harder, makes his stomach clench as he bottoms out and it takes everything in him not to moan because he still loves the feeling of having Dara in his mouth.

"I just finished speaking to a good acquaintance of mine about that exact topic." Dara tells his dad and Matt's fingers curl against his jeans. "They suggested that I bring up the topic of a business union between our two companies, a way for Kodewear to further our development without you loosing everything you've worked for."

"Really?" Thierry asks, voice incredulous. "Because, that would...that would be perfect. Amazing, in fact. Thank you." And that hits Matt like a slab of concrete, even as Dara gives a winning smile, because his dad is _thanking_ the man that his son is currently sucking off.

"Well it certainly wasn't my idea, but I'll let him know that you approve. I'll have my PA send you a term agreement and we'll meet up sometime to hash out the details. " Dara tells him and Matt sighs silently through his nose because his dad's almost gone. He feels like he should be holding his breath.

"Sounds like a plan. If you need me, you know my contact information or you could just send a message through Matt." His name makes Matt's blood run cold, Dara's pulse jumping along his tongue as precum coats the back of his throat.

"If I can't get a hold of you, I'll have Mello text your son." Dara agrees and Matt's shoulder relax as he hears the door shut. Dara makes a pleased noise as he thrusts into Matt's mouth, his releases spilling down the redhead's throat until he very nearly chokes.

"You did so good." Dara tells him, fingers brushing the red hair out of Matt's eyes as Matt stands, gasps spilling over his swollen lips. "I bet you like it, knowing you could get caught any second."

Dara cups him through his jeans, thumb stroking over his crotch and Matt moans. Dara leans down to nip at the redhead's throat, his other hand curling around Matt's hip in a manner that makes him shiver.. "Liked how one noise could expose you for what you are. Or what about now? Anyone could walk through that door, see you moaning like a slut as you rut against my hand. Is that what you want? For everyone to see?"

And goddammit, that has Matt cumming, back curling until his forehead hits Dara's chest as he shivers. Dara croons, palming him until Matt's shivering. He lets out a sob as his nerves seem to snap, vision blurring as he tries to get down from the high Dara always gets him in to. Once he straightens up, Dara redoes his slacks and turns Matt toward the door.

"Go fix yourself up," He tells him, giving his ass a smack before sitting back down. "I'll text you."

When Matt leaves, he heads to the nearest bathroom and cleans himself up like Dara suggested. By the time he's done he looks admittedly less, well, _fucked_. His jeans are past uncomfortable as he climbs into the car and he makes a mental note to throw them away once h gets home. Well, after a shower. After that he's going to sleep and not waking up until the apocalypse. Before he climbs into bed though, he makes sure to turn his ringer all the way up.

Just in case.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay guys, here's where you get to have a little fun! I want you to submit sex prompts for Dara and Matt in your reviews. Whatever you'd like to see them do whether it be, kinks, positions and so on. If I can fit it in then I'll use your suggestion and give you credit, if not I might just write a couple one shots. <strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings: Statutory rape, unhealthy relationships, angst, bad touch, explicit language, explicit sexual situations.**

**A/N: So if any of you are wondering what Dara looks like, just look at the book cover for this fanfic. He's the hot one. ;) The actor's name in the photo is Alexander Skarsgard. As for those that suggested car sex, oh honey, you read my mind. ****ForeverMATT does win the prompt challenge for this chapter though, so this one's for you sweetheart!**

_With a taste of your lips  
>I'm on a ride<br>You're toxic I'm slipping under  
>With a taste of a poison paradise<br>I'm addicted to you  
>Don't you know that you're toxic<em>

**Toxic by Yael Naim**

* * *

><p>Dara and Thierry don't close their business agreement until the night before Matt and Mello return to school for sophomore year. Matt's visiting Dara's apartment (which doesn't quite fit because the place is nearly as big as Matt's house) when he finds out. He's sprawled out on the bed, body loose as Dara leaves the bed to get dressed.<p>

He'd told his dad that he'd be out buying games, but when he thinks about the last couple hours that he's spent getting fucked on every surface in Dara's entire flat, he figures the lie was worth it.

"You'll have to head home soon and take a shower." Dara tells him as he slips on a pair of briefs. Matt watches him, brain only half awake around the haze that's fogging it. "We have dinner tonight with your father, Mello, and my wife."

Matt's awake at that, sitting up so quick his head spins with vertigo and fading endorphins. "Why?"

Dara slips on a shirt and buttons it with quick fingers then goes to his closet for a tie. "Because your father and I are now business partners. Now get up, I have to go to work."

Matt frowns, but does as commanded, rooting around on the floor for his boxers before he remembers that he creamed them. Twice. He looks up and Dara's holding a pair of his boxers out for him, a smile tilting his lips. He grabs them and pulls them over his hips as he stands. He has to roll the waistband to get them to fit but the look Dara gives him more than makes up for it. Placing two firm hands on the redhead's waist he nibbles over the hickey located where Matt's neck meets his shoulder, causing a shiver to roll down his spine.

"I like you in my clothes." Dara murmurs as Matt moves back against him. "I might just have to fuck you in one of my shirts."

That gets Matt's blood pumping, and even though he didn't think it was possible after the marathon sex they've just had, he's hard. Or getting there. He gasps as Dara's fingers travel down, stroking him through the fabric of the the undershorts.

"Keep this up and you'll have to lend me another pair." Matt breathes, hips bucking up into the older man's hand like a plea for mercy.

Dara chuckles, sinks his teeth into Matt shoulder. "I think I can make the sacrifice."

The bite isn't deep enough to break the skin, but the pain breaks something in Matt, rips a sob out of his throat as his orgasm vibrates through him. He feels keyed up, like Dara's come in and rerouted his programming. It's gotten to the point that just his _name_ gets a twitch of interest from Matt's dick, and that's not even scratching the surface of what the man's _presence_ does.

Dara licks over the indent of his teeth before placing a kiss to the abused skin there and pulling another pair of underwear out of the drawer. Matt goes to the bathroom and finds a rag to wipe himself down with, making a mental note to start a load of clothes and take a good long shower when he gets home.

...

His dad's still gone when he arrives, so he strips as he walks, tossing all his clothes into the wash and adding soap before turning it on and making his way to the bathroom. He turns the water as hot as it can go and scrubs himself down, fingers lingering over the little marks and love bites scattering his skin. By the time he's done, his dad is home, knocking on the bathroom door as he passes to his own room to let his son know that he wants him out. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Matt ducks from the bathroom to his room across the hall before his dad gets a chance to open his door and see the hickeys and finger marks adorning his skin. There's no way in hell he's telling his dad that Mello did that, and even then, that explanation would just be... No.

So keeping Dara's words in mind, he slips on the older man's boxers again, the fact that he _knows_ they're Dara's making him feel all kinds of hot. He pulls his Triforce t-shirt on too, then roots around in his closet for some dress clothes. After a bit he emerges with a navy blue three piece suit and tie, and a white dress shirt. He remembers his mom telling him once that dark blue or green went best with their hair color and, although he feels guilty admitting it to himself, he can't get the image of Dara in that navy suit out of his head. So he pulls on a pair of dark blue jeans, the white shirt, and navy tie, before slipping into the matching vest. He decides to go without the suit jacket last minute and texts Mello to tell him to do the same. The blonde texts him back with an affirmative as he leaves the room.

His dad's straightening his tie in the entryway mirror when Matt comes down, but looks over when he hears the creak of the bottom step. "Hey kiddo, you ready?" Thierry asks, an easy smile brightening his face when he sees Matt all dressed up.

"Yeah, uh, do you know where we're headed?" Matt asks and jumps when he receives another text from Mello. Ironically it has instructions to the restaurant. "Never mind, Mello just told me."

"Good, I have a feeling that wherever we're going is too expensive for me to even want to know where it is." His dad says and pauses outside the door. "And we're taking my car so you can put your keys back on that hook."

"But dad," Matt tries and Thierry levels him with a look. "I wanted to show Mello Chevelle."

"You can show him when you pick him up for school tomorrow morning." Thierry tells him and Matt sighs, but does as his dad tells him and hangs the keys back on the hook where they came from. He ignores the grin on his dad's face as he gets into the car. Or, he at least tries to until he has to give into the urge to cross his arms and stick out his tongue like a child.

Thierry just laughs.

...

The restaurant is definitely not something Matt or his father would have picked, and both of them have to admit that they feel out of place handing their car and keys over to the valet. It's not that they're poor, so to say. In fact, Thierry makes just about the same as Dara does, but having grown up in a lower middle class family, he learned to spend his money in...less ostentatious ways.

That doesn't stop the amazed whistle they both give as they peer up at the soaring ceiling and crystal chandeliers.

"Could you imagine that in our living room?" Thierry asks his son, only to flush at the alarmed look one of the passing staff gives him. Matt catches the look and plasters on a mischievous smile.

"Honestly, why hang it up where the cops can connect it to us?" Matt asks, voice business like as the staff member's eyes widen in near panic. "We could probably take it apart, scrap the metal and sell the crystals. From the look of it, they're real."

"Good idea." Thierry catches on, hands on his hips as he circles beneath the titanic sized light ornament. "We'd need a pretty tall ladder but with the right tools we could get that thing out of here in, what, twenty minutes?"

Matt makes a noise in his throat. "Twenty? Are you insane? If we got Tony in on it, we'd be in and out of here in thirteen minutes, tops."

"Sure, whatever you say." Thierry tells him and turns to the poor staff member. "You wouldn't happen to know when this place closes?"

At the question, the man looks like he might just faint and it takes everything in Matt not to burst into laughter. His dad keeps a straight face though, a comforting smile on his face when the restaurant worker only sputters out a couple unintelligible of syllables.

"They close at eleven." Says an all to familiar voice and Matt spins around to see Dara, Mello and Nichole at the check-in desk. Dara has a wicked look in his eyes and Matt's stomach does a sort of dizzying flip in response. The blonde man then turns to the staff member with an apologetic smile. "You'll have to forgive them, they've just gotten out of jail and I'm afraid they haven't yet shaken themselves of the habit of casing any place they walk into."

Thierry does laugh at that, voice booming in a way that makes Matt grin.

After the worker stumbles off looking terrified, a server comes and takes them to a table and hands them their menus. Neither Nichole not Matt miss how Dara sits directly across from Matt, Thierry and Mello sitting at the redhead's sides as Nichole takes the last seat available beside her husband. She shoots him a look and Matt's fingers clench when Mello frowns, making a face at his parents' interactions. Matt wants to tell Nichole to stop being stupid, to stop putting Mello in danger of knowing that something's wrong, but then he's the reason this whole thing started, isn't he? So he keeps his mouth shut and looks down at the jumble of French words on the menu as Mello does the same.

He figures out what most of everything is with the help of Google Translate, guessing on certain words that he recognizes from French class. When he looks over at Mello, the blonde's menu is closed beside his plate.

"Dude," Matt hisses and Mello jumps a little, like he usually does when Matt breaks him out of a certain flow of thinking. "What should I get?"

" I always get the Champignon Parmentier au Gratin 16." Mello tells him, and Matt feels like he may just need a repeat. Mello catches his look and grins. "It's just cooked mushroom with mashed potatoes and cheese. If it makes you feel any better I'm getting the Poulet a le Moutard, _the chicken Matt_, so we can probably split it between us."

Matt's brows draw together but he nods anyways, muttering a quick okay he looks between Google Translate and the menu again. Chicken, huh? He takes just as much comfort seeing that his dad looks just as confused as he does. At least he's not the only one.

It's when the server is taking their orders and his dad asks for his food in perfect french that Matt realizes his dad may just be the devil incarnate.

They talk quietly about basically nothing until the food arrives and Dara raises his glass of red wine.

"To the partnership between our two companies." He announces, a smile tilting his lips as his eyes flit, unnoticed, to Matt. Thierry raises his glass as well before taking a drink.

"I'm just glad everything worked out." He agrees as he sits his wine back down. "Now, let's eat."

Like Mello suggested, he and Matt split their food between their two plates and Matt has to admit it, the food's amazing. The chicken is glazed with some type of sweet honey sauce that makes him glad he only ordered a glass a water to drink, but it goes great with the potatoes and mushrooms, strangely enough. Mello tells him about his summer, how he visited his uncle L in Manchester for a month and how L would be visiting with his partner, Light, sometime around his sixteenth birthday and Christmas.

"You do realize that..." Matt trails off when he feels a shoe clad foot brush up his leg, breath catching as he looks to Dara. The blonde man simply continues talking to his dad but Matt knows it's him since he's the only one on that side of the table. "Sorry, you do realize that Light's the one that you are actually related to, right Mello?"

"Yeah, but it kind of sucks that my family member is a douche wile his lover is an awesome detective from England. Besides, no one likes Light."

"I used to..." Matt cuts off again, not because of Dara this time but because he realizes that admitting to having a crush on your best friend's uncle when you were a kid is probably not okay. It also makes him think that his hard on for older men may have been around for longer than he could comfortably admit to himself. "I used to think he was cool, before he left." He finishes lamely and winces when Mello's fork clatters against his plate as it drops from his hand.

"Seriously?" Mello asks, voice shocked. "Believe me when I say that you would _never_ say that if you had lived with him." Mello gives a shudder for emphasis and Matt rolls his eyes. Then jumps as Dara's foot clips him on the ankle.

"Ow!" Matt cries and Thierry gives him a startled look at the same time that Dara points one of the fingers holding his wine glass toward the bathroom.

"You okay kiddo?" His dad asks as Matt stands and the redhead nods.

"Yeah, I'm just going to get some fresh air." Matt tells him, and nearly panics when Dara excuses himself to the bathroom. Just to be safe, Matt heads out front and takes a couple of deep breaths of summer air before sneaking along the side wall to the men's room. When he gets in, it's empty besides Dara and the blonde man quickly pulls him into the large handicap stall at the end.

Dara doesn't exactly push him into the wall but Matt get's there quick enough, not even realizing Dara's picked him up until his legs are wrapped tight around the man's waist.

"A bathroom? Really?" Matt says, rolling his eyes when Dara shushes him and tangles the fingers of his right hand in Matt's hair. "I thought we got all the sex out of our systems back at your apart-."

Dara cuts him off with a kiss, tongue delving into the redhead's mouth before he has a chance to close it. Matt moans into the kiss, barely stopping himself from grinding down onto Dara's clothed cock, because a boner is the _last_ thing he needs right now. It doesn't help that Dara doesn't seem to have the same reservation that he does toward boner control either, because the blonde does this thing with his hips that makes Matt want to burn every piece of clothing the man has. Dara's hands plant themselves flat against the wall on either side of Matt's head as he breaks the kiss and Matt leans his head back, gasps falling from his lips like prayers.

"You have no idea what you in a suit is doing to me," Dara tells him and Matt's insides heat, blood thrumming with just how turned on Dara is because of him. _Him. _"How much I wanted to throw you over that table and take you in front of everyone." Dara continues and Matt lets out a needy sound at that. Because he may not know, but he sure as hell can _guess,_ and the fact that Dara isn't fucking him right now is so unbelievable unfair. That's what gets Matt thinking, what makes an idea come to him that may just be the best or worst thing to ever stumble into that brilliant head of his.

"We could," Matt moans as Dara kisses his throat, not hard enough to leave a mark but certainly hard enough for him to feel it after he's back sitting at that table. "We could fuck later at your place. ..._Or mine._"

Dara pauses at that, looks at him with eyes a stormy grey. _Yeah, that's a kink_, Matt thinks and he knows he'll have to explore that as soon as possible. For now, he watches as Dara shakes his head. "I want to hear you tonight, I want you as loud as possible, not holding back." He leans his head besides Matt's, lips brushing his ear. "I want to here you scream Little Red."

"_Of fuck yes._" Matt groans, legs feeling like jello when Dara lets him down, even though they haven't done anything. The fact that they _will_ though, has him biting back another moan, and suddenly he looking forward to tonight more than he has any right to.

* * *

><p><strong>If you notice, Matt has a very friendly relationship with his dad. Thierry may not be as accepting of Matt as his mother is (for example, in terms of Matt being attracted to guys), but they honestly love each other a lot. That wasn't the avenue I had intended for their relationship to take but when I first introduced Thierry I wrote him as a very fun, easy going man that loves his son. As this story progresses I want to not only have Matt and Mello's relationship grow, but Matt's relationship with his parents to as well. I honestly feel like Matt may turn to his mom later on when things leave his control and I want him to be able to do that without the fear of rejection. So, hopefully you all look forward to that too. <strong>

**Secondly, how are you guys feeling about the chapters, sex wise? Do you like that there's sex in each chapter? (Well except this one, there was only a mildly descriptive handjob, sorry.) Do you think that I should have a chapter with no type of sexual context? Are you tired of the smut? Because, it's super important to me that this doesn't turn into like Fifty Shades of Grey for Death Note fanfiction.  
><strong>

**So, comments and questions, leave them down in a review! (Believe me when I say that they_keep me writing_.)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings: Statutory rape, explicit language, explicit sexual content, exhibitionism, daddy kink, unhealthy relationships, angst, public sex, lethal use of cliffhangers. **

**A/N: Wow that list of warnings just keeps getting longer. Anywho, there's no car sex (yet!) in this chapter so, sorry sugar pies. But you do get a surprise from Dara. So enjoy!**

_Sugar, sugar, how now  
>Take your body down town<br>Red, white, blue is in the sky  
>Summer's in the air and<br>Baby, heaven's in your eyes  
>I'm your National Anthem<em>

**National Anthem by Lana Del Ray**

* * *

><p>Matt's dozing off with his phone curled against his chest when it vibrates him into consciousness, head jerking up and off his pillow before he realizes that he's alone. He yawns, fingers scrambling over the sides of his phone for the sleep button as it continues to vibrate. When he finally unlocks it, he holds it to his ear even as he scrambles quietly about his room for his clothes.<p>

"Hurry up, I'm outside." Dara tells him quickly and a thrill travels up Matt's spine as he slips on his jeans from earlier that night. He pulls his white button down back on too and grabs the blue tie because he wants to fuck with Dara. It's the last night of summer and he feels like he's losing at whatever game Dara seems to be playing. He's tired of being the one that's left begging, so he pushes the tie into the back pocket of his jeans and tugs his canvas sneakers onto his feet.

He takes his time on the stairs, making sure to step over the last one before going through the kitchen and out the back door. The front door squeaks and he knows that if there's any chance of him getting into Dara's car, then he needs to be as quiet as possible. So he goes around the side of the house and out through the gate. Spotting Dara's car easily, Matt quickens his pace and pulls the door open before hopping in, stomach jumping at the look Dara gives him.

"Aren't we eager?" He asks, one eyebrow arched as he pulls onto the empty suburban streets around Matt's house. Matt simply sighs and stretches, fingers stroking over the leather of Dara's seat as he shakes off the last bit of his near-sleep.

"Can you imagine what sex would be like in this car?" Matt murmurs before he can really catch himself and Dara's other eyebrow meets the first.

"Uncomfortable kiddo, it's too small." Dara tells him and Matt turns to look at the back seat before letting out a disappointed sigh.

"Not for a handjob." Dara jerks the steering wheel at that and Matt nearly topples out his seat. Letting a smirks curl his lips, Matt buckles his seat belt and tucks the shoulder strap behind him as he leans against the center console. "Or a blowjob."

"We're in a long enough drive for it." Dara tells him, eyes dark and Matt frowns, excitement and a bit of worry flashing through him.

"Where are we going?" He asks, glancing out the window to see that they're already on the highway.

"The beach." Dara says and that leaves about a _million_ options. They're in LA for God's sake. (Or they were three miles ago.)

But Matt figures that he's trusted Dara up until now, and it's never left him disappointed. So instead of asking more questions he starts working on Dara's pants. The fact that Dara's already hard makes a moan bubble up in his throat, but he bites it back as he unbuckles Dara's seat belt and undoes his jeans. Dara's hands clench on the steering wheel when Matt takes the head of his dick into his mouth, like he wants to tangle them in his hair and Matt hums.

A curse falls from Dara's lips like a broken prayer as Matt sucks him into full hardness, fingers fanned over his thighs. After so much time that's he's spent centered around Dara's cock, it's not hard for him to know just what turns the older man on so he wiggles one of his hands into his briefs and cups his balls as he bottoms out. He doesn't bob his head, conscious of the other drivers that might see him, simply moves his tongue along the vein that runs the underside of Dara's cock as his last free hand forms a ring around the base. Dara's hips stutter up and Matt pulls off, hand going to his pocket for the navy tie. Taking it, he swaps it for his fingers around Dara's base and ties it, not tight enough to hurt but just enough to make Dara feel it. He looks up, catches Dara's eye for a few seconds before the older man focuses back on the road and feels heat flood through his veins like wildfire. When he goes back down on him, one of Dara's hands comes down to tangle in his hair and Matt moans, because fucking _finally_.

They're turning onto gravel, the sounds of small rocks beneath the tires making Matt's heart beat faster, when Dara's hips buck. His fingers clench almost painfully tight and Matt knows he's close, flattening his tongue as he licks over Dara's slit. He grins at the frustrated noise Dara makes, how he doesn't try to remove the tie even when Matt knows it's driving him insane. He knows he's in for it when Dara gets full use of his hands back but for now he figures he'll enjoy himself. So he takes Dara back into his mouth, waits until he hits the back of his throat before he swallows around him as his fingers untangle the tie. Dara lets out a sound that's half moan, half gasp as he cums, his release hitting the back of Matt's throat. Pulling off a little he swallows as much as he can, wet gasps escaping around the head of Dara's cock as the car rolls to a stop.

After he puts the car in park, Dara's other hand comes down to cups Matt's chin, thumb catching dry over his bottom lip as he tilts Matt's face up. He smiles, wipes a bit of cum off the side of Matt's mouth and bring it up to his lips. Matt's dick jumps in his jeans when Dara hums and goddammit, he should not find this man as hot as he does.

"You're a fucking miracle kiddo." Dara tells him and Matt doesn't know if he's more proud than turned on, but whatever he is, he wants out of these clothes as fast as possible. Straightening up, he unbuckles himself and follows Dara as he leaves the car, the click of the doors' locks echoing behind them. He recognizes the beach instantly, remembers the times that his and Mello's families would come here to have a beach day, and he feels a sick sort of thrill flutter through him. Dara leads the way through the sand, a bag slung over one of his shoulders as he navigates them toward one of the many alcoves on the northern side.

Stopping under an outcropping of rocks, he pulls a blanket out of his bag and lays it out, smiling when Matt plops down onto it with a groan. Rolling over onto his back, Matt grins when Dara drops to his knees between his legs and pulls his hips up as he plucks the tie that's still in Matt's hand out of his grasp.

"I wasn't expecting that, to be honest." Dara tells him, leaning down to brush his lips along the underside of Matt's chin. His fingers work at the buttons of the redhead's shirt, quick and sure, before shoving it down his arms.

"What can I say?" Matt says as Dara twists the shirt around his wrists. "I learned from the best."

Dara pauses as he trails down Matt's body, looking up at him with an expression that lets Matt know that he hasn't seen anything yet. It makes Matt's blood heat, makes him feel like fire is chasing Dara's fingers beneath his skin, flames sparking at his nerves. Instead of replying, Dara gives Matt's bound wrist a tug, bits at the skin over the hem of his jeans when his hips arch up and smiles at the broken gasp that Matt lets out. He releases him to work at his pants before tugging his jeans and boxers down and off.

"Spread your legs." Dara commands, voice husky as dark grey eyes rove over his body and Matt does as he's told, legs forming a V in the air. He shudders when Dara blows a jet of cold air over his entrance, a whine escaping his throat only to be cut off when Dara gives his ass a hard smack. Reaching back into the bag Dara pulls out a bottle of lube and pops the cap, squeezing some onto Matt's rim as the redhead hisses. It's cold but Dara's fingers warm it as he massages it into the tight ring of muscles at Matt's entrance, not going in but driving Matt insane none the less.

Matt waits until Dara's finished stretching him, his hands now free of his shirt, and has him straddling his waist to pluck the tie out of the sand beside them and slip it behind Dara's back unnoticed. Pulling the blonde into a kiss he lets out a breathless hum when Dara nips at his tongue. It doesn't hurt, just jolts him a little, makes him want to kiss him all that much more. They're breathless soon enough, sighs and gasps mixing with the sounds of the waves as Matt grinds down onto Dara's cock. He still has his pants on, something that Matt finds extremely unfair, but Dara's always had better self control than he has. Letting a smile slip onto his lips, Matt tugs Dara's hands behind his back and binds them quick and tight with the tie before Dara can stop him. Dara's eyes light up, a growl rumbling in his throat and Matt feels powerful, like he can take this man apart bit by bit.

"I'm really starting to like ties." Matt hums and Dara laughs, the sound sending shock waves through Matt's system. Climbing off of Dara, he lets the blonde pull his legs from underneath him until Dara's laying flat on the blanket. Once that's accomplished he makes his way up Dara's legs, pausing to bite at his inner thigh and chuckles when he sees Dara's dick give a responsive jump. Working the blonde's pants down his hips, he tugs his underwear down after them and runs his tongue over the older man's length. Dara lets out another rumble, arms clenching as Matt grins.

"I hope you're enjoying yourself." Dara tells him, voice low and a bit breathless. Matt feels his stomach flutter in response and makes short work of the buttons to Dara's shirt in order to lick a long stripe up the blonde's abs. Positioning himself over Dara's cock as he leans down for a kiss, he uses one of his hands to guide Dara's cock to his entrance, gasping as he slides in inch by inch. It's a slow burn that makes him moan, makes him want to weep and worship the man under him like a fallen god.

Matt hums, lips falling open when Dara bucks up into him. He doesn't bottom out, not yet, but he's deep and Matt shimmies, a whine bubbling at the back of his throat. "You're so fucking perfect." Dara murmurs and Matt shivers, the mild LA air colder due to the waves crawling up the sand a few feet away. He wonders what sex in the water would be like, if it's too cold or if it's still warm enough from the summer sun not to send his balls back into his body. Leaning down to bite a mark into Dara's collar bone, he works his hips to the music of the ocean, a thrill sparking up his spine every time he hears someone near their little hideaway. Dara thrusts his hips up with Matt's every downward movement, punching a gasp from his lungs and Matt might be crying. He doesn't know, and he's so used to the breathless, needy, _erotic_ feeling that he gets when Dara's inside him that he could be bawling and not know it. Looking down at Dara, he groans at the dark hunger he see's in his eyes and knows that once the blonde's free of that tie that he's in for one hell of a fuck. But he won't let him loose, not yet, waits until they're both dancing on the edge of orgasm before he snakes a hand behind Dara's back.

Once he's free, Dara grabs Matt's wrists in one hand and flips them, pinning Matt's arms over his head as he rolls his hips. He bottoms out with one powerful thrust, Matt keening as sparks flash like fireworks in his mind. Dara's free hand tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging until Matt bares his throat like a submission and he bites down. It's not hard enough to break the skin, it never is, but it drives Matt crazy, rips a wounded sound from his throat as Dara continues to fuck him. He doesn't know whether to open his legs wider or wrap them around Dara's waist so he sort of does both, one leg hooking around Dara's waist and pulling him deep, while the other kicks into the sand.

It's on a particularly deep thrust that the sky really does light up above them, a loud boom like thunder echoing through the air and Matt briefly recognizes the explosion as fireworks before he's tipping over the edge of orgasm, vision whiting out like lightning, with the reflection of the fireworks in his eyes as Dara rides him down from his high. He makes a sound, half broken, half begging and Dara kisses him, hips rocking to a steady stop as he releases. They lay there, sand on their toes as the sweat cools and the night lights up above them.

_It could never be more perfect_, Matt thinks, wondering for a moment if Dara paid for someone to light the sky on fire or if it's just a group of kids celebrating their last night of freedom. He whines when Dara pulls out, cutting off when the man flips them and wraps an arm around his waist.

"You're perfect," Matt murmurs and Dara chuckles, like Matt's said something funny. And maybe he has, because this, whatever they are, is far from perfect that it's fucked up. But he's lost in it, doesn't know what he'd do if Dara suddenly stopped wanting him after all this. It may say something about him, how dependent he grew to be of the man beneath him in such a short time, but he doesn't care. He just wants to relish in the high Dara gives him, wants the paradise that sex with this man provides for as long as he can get it.

...

It's nearly three in the morning by the time he crawls back into his own bed, the numbers of his alarm clock glaring back at him through the darkness. He sets his phone's alarm to six thirty so he has enough time to take a shower and start a load of laundry with his bedding. He's gonna have to sweep his floor too, now that he thinks about it. He doesn't need his dad coming in to wake him up only to find sand littering his floor. But for now, he's going to sleep, mind already drifting into sleep as his body sags into his blankets.

He wakes up what feels like minutes later to his dad knocking on his door and knows he's slept through his alarm. The suns peaking through his curtains, a blinding reminder that it's still summer no matter what the school system might say. Letting out a sleep wrecked groan, he rolls out of his bed and onto the floor, jolting himself awake as his body thumps onto the rug covered wood of his floor.

"I'm going!" He shouts as he makes his way to his dresser. He pulls out the first clean shirt and bottoms he can find and gets dressed. He's only half awake through the process but he figures as long as he has semi matching clothes and a matching pair of shoes on the right feet, he's good. Grabbing his bag, he jogs down the stairs and snatches his keys from the rack by the door before busting out the door only to let out a loud curse.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." He groans, because there's Mello, perched on a sleek black sports bike beside Chevelle. The blonde tosses his helmet back and forth in his hands, a smug grin brightening his face at Matt's indignation.

"Seems you aren't the only one that got a new ride." Mello calls as Matt locks the door behind him and Matt picks up a twig to throw at him. The blonde dodges it easily and laughs, much to Matt's annoyance. It's all in fun though, and Matt's firm in his knowledge that his car is better than Mello's bike by a long shot. He doesn't tell Mello that though, because he doesn't really feel like getting arrested for racing in a residential area.

They do end up speeding a bit on the way to school, determined to see who arrives first. Mello wins, since his ride can weave through the queue of cars outside the school lot unlike Matt's. Parking in one of the few empty spaces left, he cuts the engine and clicks his key ring to one his belt loops before jogging to meet Mello on the steps. The blonde brushes his hair out of his face and slings an arm over his shoulders as the move into the packed wave of teenage bodies in the hallway. It's as he and Mello make their way to their lockers that Mello's phone chimes with an incoming text. He sighs, and passes his cell phone to Matt, who stops dead in the hallway as he reads the text.

_'You forgot your phone.'_ It's from Thierry and if Matt has the chills now, he practically has a heart attack as at the follow up message of _'We need to talk'_.

Well shit.

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><p><strong>I promise, I'm not evil. You got beach sex at least. *hides behind couch* I'll fully edit this in the morning, but for now my dad wants the computer.<strong>

**Leave**** a review with your thoughts!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings: Daddy kink, unhealthy relationships, bad touch, underage sex, undiscussed kinks, angst like ****_whoa_****, panic attacks, mentions of drug abuse, other nefarious things.**

_And the only solution was to stand and fight  
>And my body was bruised and I was set alight<br>But you came over me like some holy rite  
>And although I was burning, you're the only light<br>Only if for a night_

**Only If For A Night by Florence + The Machine**

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><p>Matt goes through his first set of classes in a daze, mind still trying to comprehend the fact that his dad <em>knows<em>. Every time the intercom crackles to life he jumps, expecting to be called to the office to see his dad. So when his name is finally called, right before lunch break, he feels a sick lump settle in his stomach, knees going weak as he wills himself to get out of his seat. Mello gives him a look, like he's concerned, but he doesn't say anything, not with their teacher giving him the evil eye.

When he finally gets to the office, he feels like he has a fever, all jittery with nerves. And when he sees his dad, sees the mixture of concern/stress/disappointment in his eyes he wants to cry.

"Dad," He begins, throat closing up when his dad pulls him into a hug. Matt does start crying then, wishes he could find the words to explain, to excuse, _something_ that'll keep his dad from hating him. He doesn't realize he's shaking until his dad's arms tighten and Matt's hands fist against his shirt, because he doesn't want to _let go_.

But he does when Thierry pats his back awkwardly, gives a watery smile when his dad wipes the tears from his own eyes. When they get outside, he expects his dad to yell, to say something, not for him to hand him his phone back without a word and head to his car. For a moment, Matt feels lost, like he's five years old and all alone. Scrambling for his keys, he jogs to his car and gets in so he can follow his dad out the parking lot.

Instead of going home though, his dad drives to an ice cream shop that they used to visit as a family when he was little. They only go there when there's something serious, and to Matt it feels appropriate, because he'd want to cry into a glass of ice cream too if he found out his underage son was fucking a man twice his age. The shop doesn't bring good memories, never has, and Matt shivers as he follows his dad in, because the last time they came here his parents told him they were getting divorced.

He doesn't wait for his dad to pick a table, just excuses himself to the restroom. He barely makes it before his stomach lurches. The next thing he knows he's gagging and he _can't fucking breathe_. Every time he tries it gets stuck in his throat and chokes him. Hugging his knees to his chest, he digs his nails into his shins and counts by four in his head. When he finally draws in a breath of air he feels lightheaded. Taking in a couple more deep breaths, he sighs and wipes at his eyes, body shaking as his stomach rolls.

After a few more minutes, he gets off the floor and goes to the sink to splash water onto his face. His dad is waiting for him at a table, two sundaes perched on the linoleum top with long stemmed spoons stabbed into them. Only one of them, his dad's, has a cherry. He sits down across from his dad, idly jabbing his spoon into his sundae as he waits for him to speak.

"Your mom overdosed this morning." His dad tells him, voice sad and low and Matt feels his heart stop, the relief that this _isn't_ about Dara eclipsed completely by the devastation that floods through his system.

"Is she...?" Matt wants to ask, but he can't finish the sentence. He doesn't even want to think of the possibility that his mom might... His stomach curls and he pushes his sundae away.

"She's alive, according to the hospital in Vegas. But I'm going to drive down to Nevada to get her. I figure a change of scenery will be good for her." Neither of them mention the elephant in the room, the fact that Thierry wants to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't relapse. "I figured you could stay at Mello's if you don't want to be alone..." His dad offers and Matt almost says yes. Then he remembers Nichole's threat and he shakes his head.

"Home's fine. I'll set up the spare bedroom and stuff when I'm not at school." Matt says and his dad kind of claps a hand over his shoulder.

"Sounds like a plan, kiddo." And for the first time since picking him up Thierry gives a reassuring but small smile, like everything's going to be okay.

...

His dad leaves the next morning, Matt standing at the end of the driveway at six in the morning to see him off. He still has another two hours until school starts, so he heads back inside for a shower. It's as he's stripping out of his boxers in the bathroom that his phone vibrates on the counter, and there's not a lot of people that he knows that would be up this early.

_'What are you doing today?' _It reads and Matt can't help the smile that appears on his face.

_'School' _He texts back, leaning his hip against the counter, even if the cold surface makes him shiver.

_'You're up early. And besides that.' _And Matt has to laugh because he can practically see Dara roll his eyes.

_'Just saw my dad off. He's going to Vegas for a couple days.'_ Matt tells him, turning on the taps to the shower as he waits for a reply. It comes soon enough, his phone nearly buzzing itself off the counter before he catches it.

_'I'm coming over.' _It reads and something in Matt coils tight at the idea.

_'I'm in the shower.'_ He tries, if only for the sake of protesting.

_'Then you'll be ready for me, won't you?'_ Dara replies and, not for the first time, Matt wonders what he's gotten himself into. But he just sends off a quick _'sure'_ and hops in the shower.

Dara arrives just as Matt shuts off the water and wraps a towel around his waist, the sound of the doorbell making Matt nearly jump out of his skin. He shivers as he makes his way to the front door and pulls it open. Dara's waiting on the other side, his eyes darkening into what Matt calls his sex look as his gaze tracks over Matt's still wet body.

Pulling him inside, Matt quickly shuts the door and lets out a sort of breathless laugh when Dara leans down to trace the trail of a water droplet with his tongue. His hands go to Matt's waist, warm through the damp fabric of the towel and a bolt of heat flashes down Matt's spine, heart beating faster when Dara's thumbs sweep over the skin of his hipbones.

"When do you have to be at school?" Dara asks, breath on Matt's neck and it takes a bit for Matt to reply because that's so fucking distracting.

"Uhm...eight-twenty." He tells him and it sounds a bit uncertain but Dara doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he simply smiles and lifts Matt up so the redhead can wrap his legs around his waist. Matt isn't sure how they get to his bedroom but they do, even if he's ninety-nine percent sure that Dara did all the work. He bites down the squeak that jumps up his throat when Dara drops him onto the bed, fingers scrambling up to the older man's belt without prompting and it's only then that he notices the bag slung across Dara's shoulder. The blonde catches his look as he tugs the miniature backpack off and drops it beside the bed, a wicked smile curling his lips as Matt finally gets his pants undone. Making quick work of the buttons to his shirt, Dara tugs it off himself and, instead of tossing it to the side, pulls it over Matt's arms. It's too baggy on him, just like all of Dara's clothes are, but something about wearing it makes Matt feel hot, makes his pulse race through his veins.

"Knew you'd look hot in my clothes." Dara murmurs as he climbs over Matt's body, one of his hands cupping the redhead's waist as the other makes its way to his hair. Matt's only reply is a throaty whine, hips bucking up as Dara's fingers tap over his hip. The blonde strokes him teasingly, fingers running feather-light over his skin as he grinds their hips together. Matt drops his head back against the pillows, hands fisting in the sheets because he doesn't know what to do with them. Dara solves that problem though, his own hand leaving Matt's hair to bring one of Matt's down to his groin. Matt groans at the heat there, at the fact that Dara's as hard as he is already.

"Just like that kiddo." Dara tells him as Matt wraps his fingers around his cock. He doesn't stroke him, knowing that the dry friction would only hurt, but he does alternate the pressure a bit, thumb swiping over the head and grinning at the shudder that rolls through Dara's body.

Scrambling into the bedside table for his bottle of lube, Matt pops the cap and squeezes some onto his hand to ease the way, stroking Dara until the the older man let's out a needy rumble, hips rocking. Green eyes connect with grey as Dara eases a slick finger into him and Matt clenches around the digit just to tease him, enjoying the fire that flares in Dara's eyes. The blonde doesn't wait long to move on to the second finger, leaning down to nip at Matt's lower lip as he stretches him open. It's a welcome burn that makes Matt's skin heat, blood on fire as Dara strokes him.

"I thought morning sex was supposed to be lazy?" Matt says, just to be contrary and, yep, that gets him_ the look_ as Dara presses his fingers against his prostate, the world sparking in front of Matt's eyes. He doesn't take long on the third finger and Matt thinks that maybe it's because Dara likes him tight, likes the fact that it might be too much for Matt to handle. But it just drives Matt crazy, makes him release a long, low moan when Dara finally slides into him. He stops after that first little bit, pulling out before sliding back in until Matt feels like his nerves might just snap.

"Daddy..." And Matt can't _think_ of what else he was going to say, the words scattering as he gets lost in the way Dara rolls his hips. He makes an irritated noise when Dara leaves him again to sit back on his heels, grey eyes watching him for a moment, like he's trying to figure out what to do with him.

Finally, Dara speaks, voice low and husky in a way that makes Matt's dick jump. "Hands and knees; up by the headboard." He tells him, and Matt does as he's commanded, arms a little shaky. The heat of Dara's body along his back is welcome, as is the feeling of him entering him again. He bottoms out this time and Matt makes a noise in the back of his throat that he doesn't even have a word for. Dara just chuckles against his shoulder as he rolls his hips, the ghost of a kiss making Matt's skin tingle. Dara guides Matt's hands up to the headboard before moving his own down to the redhead's waist and Matt can't help but push back onto him, a moan itching up the back of his throat as the head of Dara's cock brushes over his prostate. The position is awkward for a bit but then Dara's fingers tighten and they find a rhythm, each thrust punching a breathless gasp from Matt's lungs.

Dara's hand doesn't tangle in his hair, even though something in Matt _aches_ for it, and something about not having that contact winds him up, makes his back arch up against Dara with each thrust. Dara knows what he wants though, one hand coming up to base of his neck like a tease and Matt tilts his head back until he can feel the blonde's fingers against his scalp. Dara's fingers tangle in Matt's hair at the same time that he bites down into his shoulder and Matt's mouth falls open in a silent scream as he cums, vision wavering as the coil in his stomach winds tighter and tighter then releases.

"Jesus fuck," He breathes as Dara drags him back onto his cock, his orgasm winding down even as Dara reaches his. When the blonde tips over the edge, it's with a noise that makes Matt shiver. Easing out, Dara gets up off the bed and crouches beside the bed with a wince, rummaging around in his bag for a couple minutes before he pulls out a-

"Is that a butt plug?" Matt asks somewhat incredulously as Dara kneels back onto the bed, green eyes studying the little toy with hesitant anticipation.

Dara nods, leaning over Matt to nip at his lip, as he pushes the toy into him. The sensation is weird to say the least, the feeling of being filled with something that_ isn't_ Dara making him wiggle. That causes the tip of the plug to press into that bundle of nerves inside him and he moans, body shuddering.

"God, you're beautiful." Dara murmurs as he watches him, and Matt flushes, skin heating at the compliment. It's not the first time Dara's said it, but this time it _feels_ important, like it's something more than just pillow talk. It makes Matt pull him down into a kiss, tongues tangling as Dara moans. They grind against each other, not in a way that makes them hard, it's too soon for that, but just to get a feel of each other's bodies. It's sensual and makes Matt's lungs feel tight, breath becoming a little more strangled with every movement of the toy inside his ass.

"This thing is going to drive me insane." Matt tells him later, as he looks at the base of the toy in the mirror. It's black, a ornate D carved into it and that's what makes Matt finally _like_ it, the fact that Dara's so blatantly staked him as his.

Dara catches his eye in the mirror and smiles as he pulls his jeans back over his hips. He comes over, hands going to Matt's waist as Matt goes back to studying the toy. "That's what it's supposed to do kiddo." Dara tells him, voice muffled as he presses kisses along his shoulder. "I want you thinking of me while you're sitting at school, want you hot and ready for me when you get home." And that makes Matt moan, head falling back as Dara bites into his shoulder. Dara's hand travels down to his cock, fingers wrapping firm around him, because Matt's already hard. He cums after a few quick strokes, Dara working him until he snaps, and he almost sobs.

Dara give him a couple of minutes to steady himself before finishing dressing and heading downstairs. When Matt follows behind him a while later, after a shower and now fully dressed for school, Dara's sitting at the island in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal perched in one of his hands. Matt runs a hand through his hair, grimacing as cold droplets of water drip onto his skin. When he's within reach, Dara sets his bowl down and pulls him closer, hands squeezing his ass a little.

"It's still in there, if that's what you're checking." Matt tells him, and Dara almost, _almost_ blushes. He does catch Matt's gaze though, eyes so light they're almost silver in the sunlight pouring throw the window.

"Good," He tells him as Matt steals the last of his cereal and a shiver rolls down Matt spine.

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><p><strong>I was antsy for an update so you guys get a quicky before I have to go to church. I'll check for mistakes when I get home. The next update will be in a couple of days, and believe me when I say that shit goes <em>down<em>. But for now you guys get sex, sex, and more sex. **

**By the way, I love all of you guesses reviews. Special shout out to Guy From KFC, because even though all you wrote was "Oh shit!" I laughed for like five minutes straight. You guys are so ready for Matt and Dara to get found out! So I think you'll like the next chapter. And for those that don't read my A/Ns, well...you're in for a surprise.  
><strong>

**Any ways, review, review, review! I'll be back with another update in a couple of days. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings: Explicit language, daddy kinks, angst, mentions of drug abuse,_ unhealthy relationships_, car sex, explicit sexual content, underage sex, statutory rape (I might be forgetting a few tags...).**

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to the ever wonderful KkChibiChop! Thank you so much for the fantabulous reviews sweetheart.**

_Angels were never meant to fall_  
><em>And you were the loveliest of all<em>  
><em>If I thought God could fix it<em>  
><em>I'd pray for your forgiveness<em>  
><em>But I've been cast down, thrown out<em>  
><em>When I crossed to the other side<em>

**Devils Don't Fly by Natalia Kills**

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><p>Something that Matt notices right away is that sitting down is <em>hell<em>. It makes the plug press into him, tricks his body into thinking it's being filled, and shifting into a more comfortable position is _out of the question_. He earns a few startled looks when he practically moans in English and that's not even the worst of it.

_'I'm going to kill you.'_ He tells Dara as he covers his boner with his satchel and ducks into the bathroom during changeover.

_'Save it for after I fuck you then.'_ Comes the reply and Matt thunks his head against the wall of the stall he's in.

_'That's not helping.'_

It takes a bit for Dara to reply this time._ 'If you're hard, find a bathroom and take care of it.'_

So Matt does. Tugging his pants and boxers (his own boxers this time) below his hips and palms himself. It feels good, amazingly good, and he has to press his hand against his mouth to keep in the embarrassing noise he wants to let out. He thinks of Dara, of the plug inside him, and of what's going to happen when he gets home, thinks of how amazing Dara's arms feel and the flex of his muscle when he fucks him. That has him stuttering up into his hand as a shudder rolls down his spine. His orgasm is quick, fading with little _zings_ of aftershock, like a prelude or something, and he quickly grabs up some tissue to clean himself off. After he's back in his pants he wipes his cum off the toilet, because _ew_.

Once he's tucked back into his pants and no longer breathing like he's run a marathon, he unlocks the stall and steps out to run straight into a bundle of pale skin, silver hair, and white fabric. It's not unlike plowing down a ghost, and Near's so light that he stumbles back with a little squawk of sound.

"Hey, whoa, hold on there turtle dove." Matt says as he grabs a hold of the smaller boy's shirt. Near dangles there for a bit, eyes wide before he clears his throat and gets his legs situated underneath himself.

"Turtle dove?" He tilts his head, voice low for a body so...diminutive. "That's new."

Matt chuckles, and god, this is like an awkward crush-inducing moment from one of those anime shows, except...he and Near aren't attracted to each other. At all. Oh, _gross_. He releases Near quickly and the pale boy smiles, a quick tilt to his lips before it vanishes. He doesn't say anything as Matt makes his way toward the door, just pulls out a small black flip phone from the back pocket of his white skinny jeans, but that doesn't stop him from opening his mouth when Matt reaches the door. The dramatic bastard.

"The bathroom in the science wing is the best for...privacy." Near tells him and that's not creepy at all.

Matt doesn't voice his opinion though, just nods and gives an awkward wave. "I'll keep that in mind." He calls as the door falls shut between them, and yeah, _that_ was weird as hell.

...

School passes quickly, with "bathroom" breaks for Matt to rid himself of his near constant boner every hour or two. He's almost sure that Mello thinks he's sick or something, but when the blonde looks like he's going to ask about it Matt finds something mundane (like that _poster_, who knew the theatre club was going to be putting on a play? Who even does that anymore?) to stare at. It makes a flash of guilt go through his to see the way Mello's eyes dim every time Matt ignores his attempts to figure out what's going on and he knows he's going to that special kind of hell. But honestly, he'd rather shut Mello out (_for his own good_, he tells himself) than admit that "Hey yeah, I'm fucking your _dad_ and he stuck a butt plug up my ass this morning and I'm not sick or anything, I've just been jacking off so much that my dick hurts".

Yeah... No.

Luckily for him, Tuesday's are service days at their high school, so he only has to make it to lunch, before he's practically running to Chevelle. He doesn't wait to see Mello in the flood of students coming out of the school, just throws his bag in the backseat and plops down into his seat as he jams the key into the ignition. The engine turns over with a rumbling purr and he sends a text out to Dara one handed.

Dara's answering text tells him that he's on his lunch break and will meet him at his house, so Matt quickly switches lanes and turns the opposite direction of where he'd originally been headed. He gets there the same time as Dara, pulling into the two car garage of the older man's apartment (seriously, who's apartment has a _two car garage_?) as the blonde clicks the door down with his key-fob. Leaving his bag in the back seat he practically jumps Dara, a startled gasp falling from his lips when the blonde presses him back against the hood of Chevelle.

"Fuck, I cannot even_ begin_ to explain how turned on I am right now." Matt all but pants as Dara lifts him up so he can wrap his legs around his waist. It makes the material of his jeans pull taut over his ass, pressing the plug deeper as he resists the urge to grind down on the older man's cock, and god he's so fucking done with wearing clothes. He expresses that sentiment as Dara kisses a trail from his lips to the collar of his shirt and Dara chuckles.

"We're going to have to do something about that then, aren't we?" Dara says, voice low and husky in the best of ways as he lets Matt drop to the hood of Chevelle with a metallic thunk.

"Hey, watch the car- Oh _Jesus_!" Matt cuts out, a moan crawling up his throat as Dara undoes his jeans and quickly pulls them off. The air of the garage is cold, making chill-bumps appear on his thighs. But then Dara's there, warm, strong and amazing in the way that he immediately makes Matt feel like he's burning up from the inside out. He grinds their hips together, as Matt arches up for a kiss that's a little sloppy but hot as _fuck_ when their tongues finally glide over each other. Matt can feels Dara's cock through his slacks, feels the heat of him pressing through the fabric as he ruts up against the blonde, and he really has to marvel at the blonde's self control. If it was up to him they'd be fucking like bunnies by now.

Matt lets out a whine when Dara leaves him to trail down his body, the low sound rising into a keen when the blonde rotates the base of the plug inside him. His head falls back against Chevelle's hood, vision blurring as his back arches and he thinks he hears Dara moan over the rushing in his ears but he honest to god can't tell if it was him or not. He's not responsible for the shit that comes pouring out of his mouth when Dara's thumb catches dry over his perineum as he takes him into his mouth. And then he's cuming.

He feels like he's drowning, the air choked from his lungs in a way that makes him lightheaded. His skin tingles, spine shivering as he lays gasping on the hood of his car with Dara between his legs, and he can't think, can't get down from the high he's in enough to register that the blonde is still sucking him off. Bringing his hands clumsily to the blonde's hair, he tangles his fingers in the golden strands as he spreads his legs a little more and Dara fucking _hums_, letting Matt go with a slick pop before he's smiling like a cat that's got the cream.

He doesn't stay there for long though, instead moving down to tug the plug free, Matt clenching around empty air as he foggily registers the loss.

"Your ass was made to be eaten out kiddo." Dara tells him, breath hot on his hole before he licks a long stripe over his entrance and Matt's moan catches in his throat as he holds his cheeks apart, licking him open quick, even strokes. He's not sure what sound comes out when Dara hooks two fingers over his rim and thrusts his tongue in deep, tasting him as he gets him wet, but it get's Dara to look up.

"Daddy," He gasps, and shivers when Dara's eyes darken to a stormy grey. "Daddy, I need you to fuck me... Need you so bad. _Please_." And he's not fucking with Dara this time. There's no games, just a need that's bone deep to have Dara's cock in him, filling him up until he's crying. He's stopped thinking of it as weird, sick, and wrong, and right now all that he honestly cares about in the world is the fact that Dara isn't fucking him into the metal underneath him. The blonde seems to get the hint though, flipping Matt over and pulling him down until his feet can touch the ground. Matt catches the sound of a zipper going down and then Dara's there, a hand tangling into the hair at the base of his neck as he slides into him. He's still stretched open from that morning, but he's not nearly wet enough to make this comfortable. But like always, Dara seems to know what he wants, what he needs, and he catches the cold dribble of lube over him as Dara fucks into him. The blonde brings a hands down to his thigh, and hooks his leg onto the bumper, and it's a stretch, but he get's it as soon as Dara bottoms out, pressing into him full force in a way that makes curses tumble from Matt's mouth.

"Fuck baby, you're so perfect." Dara murmurs as he kisses the spot between Matt's shoulder blades, cocking sliding in and out of his body in a quick pace. Matt simply gasps, fighting to get air into his lungs as his vision dances. He scrambles at the metal beneath him, blunt nails not even marking the paint, before he's pushing, grinding, _fucking_ himself back onto Dara's cock like he's going to die without it. And he just might, he thinks as Dara wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him up against his chest.

His free hand skims down Matt's stomach, fingers dancing over the trail of red there, before taking hold of his cock. Matt thrusts up into his hand, head laid back against Dara's shoulder, as the blonde strokes him to his second orgasm. He feels his knees go weak, heat bursting along his spine as Dara continues to fuck him. When he drops his head, little droplets fall onto Chevelle's hood and he's fucking crying. Jesus.

Dara cums with a growl, the sound rumbling through Matt like thunder as his arms loosen around him.

...

Matt's still trying to get down from the high of his orgasm as he pulls into his drive way. That's the reason he doesn't notice his father's car in the driveway until he's stumbling into it. That sobers him up quick, fries the endorphins in his brain until he's staring at his father's licence plate with a cold feeling. Running a hand through his hair, he looks down at stain on his shirt and tugs it off with a curse and throws it back into the car. He roots around in his bag and comes up with one of Dara's shirts instead.

"You have got to be kidding me." He mutters as he tugs the shirt on and luckily it's a t-shirt, or else he'd have to explain the fact that he's wearing an over-sized dress shirt that's definitely not his or Thierry's. When he gets in the house he hooks his keys onto the stand by the door and pulls his bag more securely onto his shoulder.

"Matty, your mom's up in the spare room." His dad calls from his study and Matt jumps before giving himself a little shake and making his way to the back of the house. His mom's not in the spare room but when he gets to his bedroom he finds her perched on his bed with his childhood teddy bear, Mr. Snuffles, hugged up to her chest. The bear is old, and stitched up, once plush fur now a bit ratty but no less clean. There's a blue bow wrapped around it's neck as evidence to its status as a baby shower present.

When his mom looks up at him, it's with a deep worry that robs the air from his lungs. Nudging the door closed behind himself he sits down on the bed and lets her pull him into her arms. They don't talk for a while, he just sits there and lets her hold him.

"I was so worried about you, so scared." She lets out a little hiccup, like she's been crying.

"Why? I'm fine, what happened?" And he immediately regrets asking because her whole face drops, eyes becoming shadowed and tired, like they used to when she was itching for a fix.

"I never told you what I did at the casino." She says and Matt can't help but be confused because what does that have to do with... "I review, well reviewed now since they fired me, all the surveillance tapes..."

And Matt doesn't hear the rest because his ears are ringing. "You...wha-" He cuts off, breath caught in his throat as his mind tries to catch up. Next thing he know's he's laying in his moms lap as she strokes his hair, not even realizing that he's having a panic attack until it's over and he's drawing in shuddering breaths.

"Seems you inherited that from me, then." His mom remarks as she continues to run her fingers through his hair. It makes a shudder, and not a pleasant one either, roll down his spine and he wiggles out of her grasp in order to sit up. "I didn't tell you to upset you...I just, I want you to know that you can come to me about anything. I need to know you're safe."

"Is that why you overdosed?" Matt asks weakly and the way his mom's lips thin into a grim line tells him all that he needs to know.

"Y-you're not mad at me? Not disgusted?"

"Oh sweetheart," She pulls him into another hug, skinny arms wrapping around his shoulders. "What happened, _whatever_ happened is _not your fault_. It'll _never_ be your fault, no matter what anybody says." She tells him, and all Matt can think is how he doesn't want anybody to _know_. So he swallows his guilt and prepares himself to lie.

"Nothing really...happened y'know. After I told him that I was underage he backed off. Mom, he didn't even recognize me...so nothing happened."

Veronica Jeevas levels him with a look, green eyes sharp as she studies him and Matt wills her to believe the lie. Please, please, _please_. "Okay..." She sighs, strands of silvery red hair falling over her eyes. "Just come to me if you need anything. I'll be here for a while if your dad has anything to say about it."

And Matt grins, eyes shining in a way his mom's do whenever she's genuinely happy as he hugs her. "It's good to have you back home."

"It's good to be back, sweetie."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, first off, CAR SEX! Second off, three cheers for momma Jeevas for being the most amazing mother ever! Don't be mistaken about her letting it go, she's well aware of what's going on with Matt, but she's also going to be there for him and make sure that he doesn't get hurt. If that means letting Matt figure out things for himself, then she'll let him. In that way she's a lot different from her husband, since Thierry would be all out for arresting Dara as soon as he found out. **

**Anywho another character was added in this chapter! What'd you guys think of Near? Doesn't he sound adorable in white skinny jeans?!**

**Leave your comments and thoughts in a review! I love to hear your thoughts!**

**(Update: I added another line of dialogue at the end.)**

**Until next week sweethearts!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings: Angst, mentions of drug abuse, unhealthy relationships, explicit language, statutory rape, underage sex, explicit sexual content, gratuitous use of the word 'fuck', awkward bro moments.**

**A/N: I told myself I wouldn't do another Lana Del Ray song or write sex into this chapter, but fuck it.**

_My old man is a bad man but  
>I can't deny the way he holds my hand<br>And he grabs me, he has me by my heart  
>He doesn't mind I have a Las Vegas past<br>He doesn't mind I have an LA crass way about me  
>He loves me with every beat of his cocaine heart<em>

**Off To The Races by Lana Del Ray**

* * *

><p>It's after the talk with his mom that Matt realizes that he needs to be more careful, needs to give him and Dara some space. The thought makes that Dara-trained part of him fucking <em>whine<em>, makes his fingers curl into his pillow but he knows that if they keep it at the pace they've been going they're gonna get caught. And Matt's not...he can't risk that. Not ever.

So the next time he sees Dara, he decides, he'll tell him. Of course the next time Matt sees Dara isn't too far ahead in the future. They make it to the end of the school week. Barely. There may have been some covert phone sex to tide both of them over, but Matt had told himself that he wanted to be face to face with Dara when they talk.

Dara texts him after school Friday, tells him to come to the apartment, and they spend the afternoon fucking. And okay, they're supposed to _not_ be fucking like bunnies anymore but when Dara's takes him by the shoulders and guides him to his knees right in the arch of the entrance hall's doorway, well, who is Matt to divulge him of a quick bj? Or turn down the frenetic, fucking sweltering sex that follows in the hall. The fact that there's a packet of lube stashed in one of the decorative wall sconces makes Matt feel like Dara's planned this but he's never one to complain. He finally, _finally_, brings it up after Dara strokes him to a slow, tsunami like orgasm in the bedroom (what can he say, he's a teenager with a surprisingly short refractory period).

"I think we should take things slow." He murmurs, half out of his mind thanks to the overstimulation of the past few hours.

Dara raises a brow. "Slow?" He intones, question marked with the dip of his tongue as he licks the cum off his hand.

"Ohmygod, stop being so..." Matt can't think of a word to accurately describe Dara right now. Instead he makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat as Dara works his way down to the mess on his stomach. "I'm being serious here. We c-can't keep doing so much of _this. Jesus!_"

"And by this you mean," Dara kisses his hip, sucking a light mark into the pale skin there as he looks at Matt through his lashes. "This. Or you could mean _this_." He says, finger dipping into the excess on Matt's stomach and making it's way to his entrance, pushing it in and chasing it, so that soon he's full on fingering him. Matt simply shakes his head, a strangled sound emerging from his lungs as Dara works him open.

"No. I mean yes!" Matt chokes out, hips arching at the urging of Dara's other hand. "All of it. The sex, hand jobs, the fucking blowjobs." Because Dara is an evil fucking shit with a mouth that can cause angels to fall, he takes Matt into his mouth, sucking lightly as he hums. Matt's gasping, something that may or may not be another moan escaping him when Dara releases him with a soft kiss to the head of his cock.

It's a distraction, a damn good one too, but Matt knows that what he has to say is important, so he bites back another wanton noise when Dara goes back to preparing him (with lube this time, this isn't a fucking porno) and tries to organize his thoughts.

"School's started up and my mom's moved in, I need to focus on that, instead of..." He trails off.

"Getting fucked by your best friend's father." Dara fills in, like that sentence is fucking normal. In any way. And if Matt thinks about it, it kind of is. So he doesn't think about it, just nods and opens his legs a little wider when Dara's done prepping him.

"Not that I want us to stop completely." Matt adds breathlessly as Dara presses into him. It's slow and sated, unlike their quicky in the hall. "Just to slow down. Baby steps and all that."

"I don't see any reason to argue, beside the no sex part." Dara says, punctuating the rather hypocritical statement with a thrust of his hips. Matt agrees with a breathless laugh, tightening his legs and rocking a little so he can flips them. Dara's hands settle instantly on his waist, guiding Matt as he rolls his hips. It's like a dance, Matt thinks, and while he's never been all that good at dancing, he's great at fucking, thanks to Dara. So he uses his legs, never rising too far, never falling too fast as he rides Dara and he must be doing something right because the blonde's moaning beneath him, head tilted back to expose his throat, eyes shut. The sight alone makes Matt's body thrum, jolts of pleasure bouncing through him like synapses as he stays seated for a moment, clenching around the base of Dara's cock. He leans forward, bites at the dip of the older man's collar bone before kissing the underside of his jaw.

"Getting tired?" Dara says, voice rumbling through both of their chests and Matt realizes that he's barely moving, hips rocking as he peruses the stretch of throat before him. He hums, but doesn't makes the effort to start up again as he chases the beginning of stubble on Dara's jaw. Dara doesn't seem to mind though, hands leaving Matt's waist to take hold of his ass, holding his open as he thrusts up. The movement sends Matt tumbling that last bit of distance forward so that he's laying on top of Dara instead of over him, and he pushes back into the thrusts, giving as much as he gets.

And when Dara's hands move again, one hand tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as the other snakes between them to wrap around Matt's length, he knows it's going to be the fucking that he's going to miss most of all. In most relationship that might be a bad thing because your supposed to miss the person _not_ how they can get you off, but he and Dara have never, fuck, _will never,_ have a normal relationship.

So he shuts his mind off and lets Dara fuck him, spine shivering as his release coils tighter and tighter in his stomach. A few quick strokes of Dara's hand have him stuttering to a stop, orgasm washing over him so quick that he's breathless, fingers digging into Dara's shoulder as he tightens around him.

Dara strokes him through it, urges his to move even though his muscles may possibly be goop. When Dara comes, it's with a bitten off moan, the hand tightening in his hair until his scalp aches before his fingers relax.

"Gotta say I'mma gonna miss that kiddo." Dara tells him and if Matt weren't half asleep he'd respond. But he agrees in his mind, because god dammit, he's going to fucking miss this too.

...

Now that Matt has Dara crossed off his mental list of shit that he's got to take care of, he turns his focus onto Mello. Because despite it only being one week into the school year, two since he got back from LA, he feels like he's stuck Mello in outer field and left him there. Which fucking sucks.

So he mentally kicks himself in the nuts, puts on his big boy pants, and spend the weekend scheming his way back into Mello's affections. He doesn't actually get to talk to Mello though, what with Nichole threatening to call the cops on him and his mom insisting that he show her what she's missed since moving to Nevada.

When Monday finally comes around, he ready for school and out of the house by eight. It's a quick drive to school, Chevelle's engine a constant rumble under the sounds of Matt singing his head off to a Queen song on the radio. Mello bike is in its usual parking spot, across from where Matt normally parks instead of at the bike range like a normal highschooler. Then again, fuck authority has always been more of a motto than a phase for Mello.

Mello's waiting for him on the steps like usual, messenger bag propped against one of his red Doc Martens as chews (obnoxiously, when a teacher is near) on some gum. "You're early." He says, standing and marching up the steps like he owns the place.

"I'm on time." Matt defends as he hurries to catch up, because he may be taller but Mello sure as hell can leg it.

"Which is early for you." Mello reminds him and Matt feels something in his chest get a little lighter. They're talking. Mello's acting normal!

_Or maybe not_, Matt thinks as the blonde pulls him straight into the bathroom. When a gaggle of freshman stare at them with wide eyes, Mello shoos them away with quick, angry gestures.

"Go use the ladies room!" He commands and they run out.

"I'm sure they could have..." Matt begins only for the blonde thunderstorm to whirl on him.

"Where the hell have you been?" He demands and when Matt opens his mouth to speak, he cuts him off. "And don't avoid the question this time. Fucking talk to me. Because we've known each other since we were fucking toddles and you think that I don't notice when somethings wrong with you but I do. I do and...fuck I'm worried. You're my best fucking friend and I haven't talked to you in a week, so just-"

"My mom overdosed." It comes out soft, almost washed away in the torrent of Mad Mello Word Vomit but it pulls the blonde to a sudden, grinding halt, blue eyes wide.

"Fuck, I didn't know...I...shit." Mello swallows, eyes watching Matt's face. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Dad left on Tuesday to bring her back from Nevada and she's staying here for a little while." Matt tells him and flinches back when Mello punches him in the arm.

"You dick! You could have said something; then we could have flipped out about our parents together."

And that catches Matt short, makes a stone settle in his stomach when he thinks of Dara. "Your parents?"

"They're getting a divorce." Mello says, kicking at the tiled wall. Matt opens his mouth to say something, like sorry, even though this couldn't possibly be his fault, when the bell rings. The shrill sound makes him jump, startles Mello out of his abuse on the wall, and they look at each other for a moment before laughing.

"Should have known you'd make me late, you asshole." Mello mumbles and Matt has to fight the urge to hug him. Apparently Mello doesn't have the same mental hang-ups as Matt because he simply wraps his arms around Matt with a deep breath. "Sorry about you mom."

"Sorry about your..." Matt trails off, because they both know the divorce was bound to happen.

"I will punch you in the dick." Mello growls into his shoulder and Matt pushes him away with a laugh.

"Go before the late bell your highness." Matt mocks and doesn't even try to hold back his laughter when the second, final bell cuts through the air.

"Both of you, office." A teacher commands, but Mello just hisses a sharp _bite me_ under his breath and heads toward their first period Biology class.

* * *

><p><em><span><strong>READ THE ANs!**_

**A/N(2): Believe me when I say that I had to fight this chapter tooth and nail. Like seriously, it's been nigh on a month since I updated and I wrote the entirety of this in one day. (Which would explain why I think it may be crap.)**

**But, news, news, NEWS! Guess who just finished their first semester of college? This motherfucker! [Boss Ass Bitch plays softly in the background.] **

**Seriously though, shit has been going down. One of my kittens died, _I nearly died_ (okay I got sick and had a fever of 103, whatever), I got pink eye from one of the nasty motherfuckers at my job. **

**Seriously, never work at a retail store. People are gross, money is gross, sales are gross, _everything is fucking gross_ and you will come out of it tired and DISEASED.**

**A/N(3): Now to discuss the story. Like I said earlier, this chapter is probably crap. I'll understand if you don't like it. I don't mean post anything I don't like, but it's been nearly a month. **

**(HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS ARE THE MOST PATIENT, WONDERFUL FANS EVER ILOVEYOUSOMUCH!)**

**But! What do you think of the development in Matt and Dara's fucked up little hoo-ha? What about Matt and Mello? I dare say I wrote bromance. And ohmygod what has my life become?!**

**(I may possibly be high right now.)**

**((Although I don't do drugs))**

**(((Drugs are fucking bad.)))**

**((((Don't fucking do them.))))**

**But no, really! Do you think Dara and Matt should take things slow? Or do you like the sex in every chapter, fucking like bunnies that I had going on before? (I LIKE IT!)**

**(I will write you motherfuckers oneshots if you wants some DaraxMatt sex! I will write that shit like a fiend.)**

**What do you think of Mello?!**

**A/N(4): Yes, I know this chapter isn't 3k words. But I'm tired! *orders cheese with my whine***


	10. Chapter 10

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears **

**Rating:M - Explicit **

**Warnings: Unhealthy _relationships,_ underage sex, statutory rape, daddy kink, explicit language, explicit sexual ****content, sexual fantasies****, bad touch, mentions of public sex, underage drinking.**

**A/N: Sorry I'm late. The new semester and work are kicking my ass. Plus Dara's evil.**

_Touch me, yeah_  
><em>I want you to touch me there<em>  
><em>Make me feel like I am breathing<em>  
><em>Feel like I am human<em>

**A Little Death by The Neighborhood**

* * *

><p>Things returned to normal after Matt's Straight Forward Life Intervention Plan (or simply S-FLIP. It's a working title) is set into motion. Mello stops looking at him with dejected baby blues and his mom stops hovering. There's one thing he notices though as the hours turn to days and days into weeks. He fucking <em>misses<em> sex (Dara). Like _a lot_.

Sure there's the amazing phone sex, the rushed quickies at least once a week when Matt can afford to skip out on lunch, and on one memorable occasion, the time Dara's monumental self restraint seemed to finally snap and Matt ended up getting fucked over the desk in the blonde man's office. _That had been great_, he thinks with a sigh, remembering the finger shaped bruises that had lingered on his hips days afterward.

So when Dara texts him, telling him to come over at six am on Friday, Matt grabs his canvas shoes, sneaks down the hall, and lets Chevelle roll silently down the driveway before turning the engine on. It takes him half the time it normally would since traffic is practically non-existent and when he arrives Dara's already waiting for him in the entry hall of his apartment. Along with two suitcases.

"What are those?" Matt asks, struck dumb at the sight of the luggage more than he is at the image Dara portrays in a pair of low slung sweats. And that's saying something that Matt doesn't particularly want to admit to himself right now. "Where are you going?"

Dara smiles, pulls Matt to him until the redhead is flush against his chest. "I'm going to Tucson for a conference.".

"For how long?" Matt asks, because he doesn't want to think about Dara leaving. Dara seem's to catch on to his thoughts anyway, because he chuckles, fingers threading through Matt's hair in something dangerously close to a comforting gesture.

"A week or two. I'll be back before my birthday kiddo." Dara tells him.

"Your birthday? What the hell is this, drop random information on Matt day?"

"No, it's Friday." Dara says, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. Matt thinks about slapping him, then settles for kissing him instead. It's greedy and quick and he may or may not moan a little. He isn't ashamed of the way he curls into Dara's hold, doesn't even _think_ about how Dara's arms wind around his waist to pull him closer. They stand there in the entry hall to Dara's apartment, swaying into each other as the kiss slowly evolves into something heated, something with a hint of teeth and the delving of tongues.

Matt makes the first move to push things along a little more, pressing his hips flush against the older man's and bites at Dara's bottom lip. It's Dara who pulls back though, stills Matt and leaves him standing there confused.

"You set rules." The blonde reminds him and Matt lets out a short, annoyed sound.

"Now you want to be the responsible one?" He asks, not quite angry but...miffed, because seriously? Dara was picking now to give him a case of the blue balls? "You're leaving for a week, the least could do is fuck me before you go."

"Hold off until my birthday and then we'll talk." Dara tells him, ducking down for a _chaste_ kiss that makes Matt furious at the same time that it sets his heart beating faster. Dara just smiles. The fucker.

"So, why did you invite me here?" Matt asks sometime later, when he's curved against Dara on the couch while they ignore the TV playing in the background. Scarily enough, with the no sex ban on their relationship they've relapsed into the first base stage of...whatever this is.

"Maybe I wanted to spend time with you." Dara says all too innocently. Matt doesn't buy it for second. But he doesn't call the man out on it either. He just settles in as close as he possibly can, taking in that heady scent that he long ago identified as sandal wood and ginger that seems to linger on Dara's skin, and begins to wait. Fortunately he doesn't have to wait for long, since neither of them are all that patient. He barely keeps down the hum of satisfaction as Dara presses a series of kisses to his neck.

"So much for the rules." Matt mutters, tipping his head back as Dara moves between his legs and the man laughs as he presses their groins together.

"Well, no one ever said I was a responsible adult." Dara points out dryly and Matt lets out a shocked bark of laughter that melts into a groan when Dara grinds his hips down.

"Fuck, daddy." He hisses, hooking a leg around the man's slim waist and pulling him impossibly closer. Dara lets out a low sound and bites at Matt's shoulder, low enough that no one will see it with a shirt on. "So," He stops, bites down on a gasp. "I was thinking that for your birthday we should do something special."

That gets Dara to look up, eyes dark with lust as he takes in Matt's face. "And what did you have in mind?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'll figure something out." Matt tells him and Dara catches his lips in a hungry, heated kiss. It makes Matt's blood thrum with want, curls a moan up his throat as Dara rolls his hips down, Matt's own coming up to meet him in a sort of dry friction that should hurt. But it feels amazing, makes Matt breathless in the best way. They're sweating, too many clothes between them to be comfortable. But strangely enough, Matt doesn't mind, because this is _different_, new and fevered in how they aren't getting everything from each other. One of the blonde's hands comes up, treads through his hair and _tugs_. The pressure almost sets Matt off, vision whiting before he has the sense to bite his lip on the impending orgasm. Even so, he can feel it thrumming just beneath the surface, waiting to crest like a tsunami wave as he shudders.

"Fuck." He gasp, stutters out a weighted breath as Dara's one-handed grip on his hip tightens. "Gonna make it good daddy, just for you." He breathes out bedside Dara's ear and the blonde lets out a startled moan, slowing to a stop above him as Matt sucks in a deep breath.

"Fuck...kiddo, get up."

"What?" Matt asks, brain foggy as Dara shakes his shoulder.

"Get up, you're gonna be late for school." The blonde tells him and Matt jolts up, realizing that he'd fallen asleep when he spots Dara standing beside the couch with a smirk on his lips.

"Seriously?" Matt groans because, "Don't tell me that was all a dream."

"It seemed like a pretty good one." Dara says and Matt grabs an ornamental couch cushion from the floor and hits him with it.

"What times is it?" He asks when the blonde tugs the pillow from his grasp and tosses it toward the hall.

"If you hop in a cold shower and get dressed you might make second period." Dara tells him in way of answer and Matt hisses out a short, irritated breath. Getting up from the couch is better said than down and Matt's sour mood only grows when he gets a feel of the cooling stickiness in his pants.

"You're a dick." He tells Dara when he catches the older man chuckling into a cup of coffee. He slams the bathroom door behind him just to get on the man's nerves and quickly strips before turning the water as cold as he can bear. By the time he gets out he's shivering but awake and has a new respect for people that take cold showers on a regular basis. Fucking _masochists_.

There's a folded pile of various clothes that he'd left around Dara's apartment previously and he tugs on a pair of jeans and a shirt, fingers combing wet strands of hair out of his eyes.

Dara comes in while he's pulling on his socks and plugs in a hairdryer. When Matt gives him a questioning look, he shrugs and flips it on. His fingers card through Matt's hair as he dries it, the noise of the dryer drowning out out any potential conversation.

And it's... nice, surprisingly so. After a bit, the bathroom gets too warm with all the hot air flying around and Dara unplugs the machine, letting Matt use his fingers to style his hair out of its windblown state.

"Text me when you get to AZ." Matt tells him as he gets into his car and Dara leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. Matt's having none of that though and pushes up to catch Dara's lips.

...

Lucky for Matt, he's too lazy to take his backpack out of his car so he doesn't have to go back home to get it. He makes it to second period, barely, and smiles when he catches sight of the empty seat beside Mello.

School passes quickly, the text from Dara coming in during lunch. He leaves it impersonal in case anyone sees, but despite that Matt feels lighter than he has in a while.

"So, I was thinking we should go out tonight, do something fun." Halle's voice cuts into his awareness and he tunes back into the conversation. During the last few weeks, he and Mello have seemed to gravitate slowly into the ring of 'cool kids', the leader of which is Halle Lidner. Which isn't surprising at all considering her looks. But she's smart too, with a cold calculated way about her that Matt catches Mello unconsciously imitating. Together the two blondes have the potential to be terrifying and have quickly become the gossip of the school.

"What did you have in mind?" Mello asks, unknowingly echoing Dara's words from his dream and and Matt nearly bites a hole through his lip trying to not react.

"How about the club downtown?" Anthony Rester, a jock that's Halle's on- and off-again boyfriend of two years says and Halle beams, like her boyfriend isn't a lost cause after all. Mello scowls.

"Everybody goes to clubs." Mello says and Matt bumps shoulder with him.

"But we aren't everybody." Halle says.

"Besides, it could be fun." Matt says, thinking of his last experience in a club. Mello gives him a betrayed look, but doesn't protest again. Matt counts it as a win.

...

The club it packed, just like the one in Nevada had been. Music thrums through the air, the bass seeming to vibrate his chest and he makes a bee-line for the bar. Mello follows him, blending seamlessly with the crowd in a black leather vest and pants set. His hair is up in a messy ponytail instead of it's usual perfect bob and that, paired with the rosary around his neck and red Doc Martins on his feet, has clubbers eyeing him up. Mello seems to suck up the attention like light to a black hole, blue eyes dancing as he practically glows.

Matt orders a variety of shots and shooters, watching as Halle weaves through the crowd toward them to pull Mello into a dance.

"Planning to have a fun night?" The bartender asks as he shakes the the contents of a round of Kamikazes in a cocktail shaker.

"Something like that." Matt tells him, voice loud to reach over the music. He takes one of the shots and throws it back. The bartender smiles when he makes a surprised face.

"Good?" The man asks and the smiles morphs into a grin when Matt nods. "Then they're on the house."

"What are they called?" Matt shouts over the music and lets out a startled laugh when the bartender tells him that they're Orgasms. He loads the rest of the shots onto a tray and slides them over to Matt with a conspiratorial wink and Matt makes sure to drop a five into the tip jar.

He finds a table in a corner and sets the tray down, taking another Orgasm as he scans the crowd for Mello and Halle. It's as he's searching the section near the DJ booth that he catches eyes with a guy that only looks to be about college age. He's dancing with a pretty brunette girl, their bodies grinding together but when he catches Matt looking he smiles, slow and heated. Maybe it's the atmosphere, or the shots, but Matt feels like he's gotten the breath knock out of him.

Drinking down the shot in one quick go, he slips into the crowd, forging his way toward the DJ through the sweaty press of bodies. The guy seems to meet him halfway, the girl nowhere in sight as he pulls Matt toward him. He's tall and blonde with dark eyes and Matt's starting to think that he has a type. They don't talk, don't even try as a new song comes on, just grind against each other in what's basically a vertical imitation of sex. It's when the guy ducks down to kiss his neck that Matt jumps away, feeling his skin crawl with a sense of wrongness.

"You okay?" His partner asks and Matt mentally shakes himself, because what the hell?

"Sorry." He tells him instead of answering and they get back to dancing. Luckily, Blondie seemed to catch a hint and doesn't touch Matt's neck again. They do trade a quick kiss before Matt heads back to his table though and Matt can't help the smile that lights up his face. Halle's honed in on the tray of alcohol like a shark after blood, so he finds her, Mello, and Rester gathered around the table with shots in hand.

"Smooth moves, Matt." Halle says with a smirk and Matt flushes.

"When in the hell did you learn to dance?" Mello cuts in after he downs a Kamikaze.

"I spent the summer in Vegas." Matt tells him, like that explains everything. And it'll have to, because there is _no way in hell_ that he's explaining that he learned from Dara. The thought alone makes him cringe on the inside.

"I bet he was blonde too. They seem to be your type." Rester mutters just loud enough for them to hear.

"Dude, you're all blonde!" Matt shouts and Mello shoots him a seductive look.

"Yeah, but Halle's a girl and Rester's straight, so that just leaves me." Mello says, voice low and dark and Matt thinks he's drunk until he sees the glimmer of a joke in the blonde's eyes.

"We should totally make out." Matt tells him, much to Halle's delight if the laughter is anything to go by. Rester looks slightly horrified at what he's started as Mello leans toward Matt with exaggerated slowness. They're inches apart when a shout of "GAY!" breaks over the music and Matt pulls back lightning quick to see Rester's older bother Giovanni standing beside the table with a bored looking Near at his side.

Suddenly Near's comment in the bathroom makes sense, because if he's hooking up with a TA then he's gonna know the private places in school where they'd be least likely to get caught. Picturing it makes Matt shudder on the inside but then he catches the look Near has on his face as he watches Vanni talk to Rester. It's...infatuation and that's just plain _scary_.

"Who knew the sheep had feelings." Mello murmurs to him and Matt laughs.

"Who knew he had game." He replies and Mello's scowl comes back. Matt's having none of that though and grabs the tiny bowl of salt from the tray. "Lick your hand." He tells Mello and follows his own advice when Mello obliges. Sprinkling salt over the wet spots on the back of their hands, he licks the crushed rock off of his own hand and downs a shot of tequila with a hiss. Mello follows his lead and makes a face. Matt passes him a lime wedge.

...

By the time they leave the club, both he and Mello are drunk, but the blonde is smiling and laughing. To Matt, that's all that matters right now, so he smiles too.

They catch a cab to Mello's since it's closer and they're _nowhere_ near drunk enough to think driving is a good idea. Nichole isn't awake when they get home, for which Matt is_ infinitely_ glad, because there is no way that he's dealing with that right now.

But just in case, he puts Mello between him and the door before they go to sleep. The blonde curls around him, falling back into his childhood habit of using Matt as a full body pillow. It hot, stifling so, since fall hasn't quite started yet, but he doesn't mind.

"Thanks." The blonde whispers into his shoulder and is asleep before Matt can ask what for.

* * *

><p><strong>Is this a filler chapter? Yes, kinda. Do I still like it nevertheless? You bet your ass I do. But, there is drama up ahead so enjoy this while it lasts.<strong>

**A/N: I edited this chapter a bit, so I'm reposting it. The next chapter will be up either tonight or tomorrow.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating:M - Explicit**

**Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, underage sex, statutory rape, daddy kink, explicit language, explicit sexual content, phone sex, table/desk sex, exhibitionism kink, masturbation.**

**A/N: This chapter was brought to you by 8Tracks and Celestial Seasonings Honey Vanilla Chamomile tea. **I could not, for the life of me, figure out to start this chapter off, so please excuse the crappy dialogue. ****

**A/N 2: sex, sex, sex, Sex, SEX, SEX! (Yessss!)**

_You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve_  
><em>And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground<em>  
><em>Dig them up. Let's finish what we've started<em>  
><em>Dig them up. So nothing's left unturned<em>  
><em>All of your flaws and all of my flaws<em>  
><em>Are laid out one by one<em>  
><em>Look at the wonderful mess that we made<em>  
><em>We pick ourselves undone<em>

**Flaws by Bastille**

* * *

><p>Matt wakes up to the pressure of a foot in his back before he's tumbling off the bed and onto the hardwood floor.<p>

"_Jesus Mello_, what the hell?" He hisses, rubbing his head but all he gets is an annoyed grumble from above. "Hey, no, you do not get to sleep after that." And then he's dragging Mello down to the floor with him. The blonde lets out an indignant squawk, flails a little, and clips him on the chin with the heel of his foot. Blue eyes blink open, then narrow as Mello lets out an indignant huff.

"It's too early for this shit Matt, go back to sleep." He commands before clawing his way back into the bundle of blankets on the bed and Matt's left sputtering on the floor, head aching and slightly fuzzy with what's he recognizes as an epic hangover.

"You're the one who woke me up!" Matt hisses back, then ducks his head when the door opens as Mello's mom walks in.

"Mello, don't you think it's time to send your friend home?" Nichole asks, eyes narrowing like her son's had earlier and Matt's getting _really_ sick of her shit.

And apparently, so is Mello. "Um..._no_. Matt hasn't stayed over in forever."

"Even so, I had plans for the two of us today. Send your friend home and get dressed." She tells him, adding the last part over her shoulder as she leaves. Mello glares at her back with so much heat that Matt wonders at how she's _not_ catching on fire but they still get dressed.

His phone rings on the way out the door and Nichole gives him a disgusted look from her spot on the stairs, but even that doesn't stop the anticipatory flip his stomach does when he sees Dara's number.

"How's Arizona?" Matt asks as he begins the drive to his house and okay, sue him, but he can't think of anything else to _say_.

"It's hot." Dara replies, humor as dry as the desert he's currently residing in.

"Well, it does have the same climate as Iraq, so what were you expecting?" Matt points out as he turns onto his street and he grins at the irritated huff of noise that Dara omits.

"That's Phoenix, kiddo. Tucsan's a bit different... prettier."

"Cooler, you mean. It's all desert."

"I happen to know for a fact that people actually do live out here, Matty." Dara drawls and Matt can practically here him rolling his eyes. Matt doesn't dignify him with a reply and eventually Dara lets out a frustrated puff of air. "How's LA?"

"Seriously dude, what's up with all the small talk?" Matt asks as he pulls into his driveway, cuts Chevelle engine and just _sits_.

"Don't call me dude," Dara replies, tone stern and Matt flushes up to his neck, skin running hot under his shirt. It's quiet for a moment. "I don't think we've ever had a conversation over the phone that didn't involve sex."

Matt arcs an eyebrow, remembers that Dara can't see the gesture and shrugs. "And what, you want to change that now?"

"God no," Dara scoffs. "Where are you?"

"Home... Well, in my driveway." The redhead amends, excitement fizzling under his skin as he catches the hum of interest Dara lets out.

"While I do like you out in the open, I think I'd like to be present for that particular show." Dara tells him and Matt nearly face plants to the pavement he scrabbles out of his car so fast.

"Then where do you want me?" Matt mutters into the phone as he unlocks the door. He peeks into each of the rooms as he goes and they're all empty.

"I take it the house is clear?" Dara observes. "Or else you would have hung up."

"Crystal." Matt says, heartbeat jack-rabbiting as he struggles out of his boots. Suddenly, he feels urgent, like he needs this now, five minutes ago, fucking _yesterday_.

"Eager, are we?" Dara's voice in his ear is like the devil on his shoulder and he nods, the movement jerky as he nearly gasps.

"Just tell me what _to do_." Matt bites out, breath hitching as he hears the rustle of movement on the other line.

"Go to the nearest flat surface, and not the floor kiddo."

_"And?"_ Matt stresses, his stomach dropping as he peeks into the nearest door and finds his dad's home office, and more specifically, the large oak desk that dominates the space. _This is so many levels of wrong,_ Matt thinks as he runs a hand over the smooth wood.

"Talk to me kiddo, where are you?" Dara's voice filters in, thick, low, and wanting. It makes Matt's palms tingle as he opens his mouth to answer.

"Dad's office, beside his desk."

There's a surprised hum of sound, almost a laugh, then: "Strip."

Matt sputters, shivers like Dara can see him, but he doesn't hesitate at the clear command in Dara's voice. And he _should_. Dear god, he should.

Putting the phone on speaker, he sits it on the edge of the desk, out of the way, and begins the process of stripping off his clothes. He names every article as they drop away, pausing once he reaches his boxers, but Dara urges him on with a firm verbal push. Standing naked in his dad's office is...weird to say the least, exposing and oddly invigorating once he tamps down his fear of Thierry walking in. Maybe it's that fear that sends his blood rushing south, that and Dara's voice, slightly tinny through the phone's speaker but no less alluring.

"Where are you?" Matt asks of Dara after the quiet starts settling on his skin. There's another shuffle of fabric and Matt wonders if Dara's stripping too.

"Currently, I'm in a conference room adjoining the hall where my clients are meeting. We'll have to make this quick though kiddo, I have a talk in a few minutes."

"Quick's my middle name." The redhead quips, carefully moving the few odds and ends on his dad's desk to the chair behind it. He sits on it first, bare skin pressing to the polished wood, but knowing the picture Dara is likely trying to create, he leans back and spreads his legs, lets his calves hang over the edge. He keeps talking to Dara the whole time, describes the feel of the wood under his back, the press of the desk's grooved edge against the back of his knees, and listens as Dara instructs him. One of his legs, the right one, comes up, heel pressed into the desk's border as he folds his knee and leans it to the side.

He takes a pic and sends it to Dara for prosperity's sake.

"God, what I wouldn't do to be between your legs right now." Dara tells him once the ding of an incoming message sounds. Matt imagines it, imagines Dara pressed up against him, hot and solid and _here_ instead of in Arizona, _f__or fuck's sake. _He lets out and irritated puff of air and ignores Dara's chuckle. Instead, he spits onto his hand and palms himself, already half hard despite the slight chill of the air conditioner.

"Mmm, and what would you do if you were here?" Matt asks then bites his lips around a gasp where he here's the sound of a zipper going down across the line. Fuck.

"I'd fuck you." Dara says, voice heated steel and Matt's chest clenches along with the fingers around his length, everything just a little too tight but oh so fucking good. "God baby, I'd fuck you until you were crying for it, make you leave marks in that pretty little desk."

Matt gives a few eager pumps of his fist, groans as the spit dries too quick in the open air and searches the desk drawers for the lotion he knows his dad's keeps for when his hands get dry while typing. Pressing the pump a few times, he shivers at the initial cold contact, keeps his hand moving until he's warm and slick.

"What about after, would you let me come or make me beg for it Daddy?"

"Fuck kiddo," Dara hisses and Matt's movements quicken, his foot scrambling to keep purchase on the desk. Sweat's beginning to break across his skin as Dara talks, describes how he'd hold him open and eat him out, how he'll have Matt finger himself open before they even start as Dara watches. Pressing a fist to his mouth, he bites down on his knuckles to keep in the embarrassingly eager sound that wants to escape.

Dara's protest is immediate though. "I want to hear you kiddo, every little sound, want to hear you cum for me." Dara tell him, voice low and rich with lust induced huskiness. Matt's hips stutter up in response, his thumb swiping the precum from his slit as he rocks into his palm and the light scrape of his thumb nail makes him _fucking whimper_.

Everything after that is a desperate babble of "daddy" and "fuck me" and other expletives on Matt's part as Dara takes him apart image by image. It's when Dara describes someone walking in on him now, seeing the way Dara can destroy his so completely though words alone that he cums with a half gasp half groan. His vision doesn't quite white out but it's a close thing, the edges of his vision going hazing as he he continues to fuck his hand through the aftershocks. There's a low imitation of his earlier sound from Dara and Matt _knows_ he's close, wishes he was kneeling between Dara's legs so he take him into his mouth and bring him to completion. He tells Dara that, enjoys the noise Dara makes as he cums, a low rumble of want and satisfaction just audible over the slap of skin on skin.

He lays there for a bit, mind dazed and skin tingling before he gains enough mental functions to grab his discarded shirt and clean himself. Dara lets out a breathless curse from the other end of the line, breath coming in near silent gasp and Matt imitates the sentiment.

"Go get cleaned up kiddo." Dara tells him, voice content before the call ends and Matt's stomach does a little somersault, chest tightening in a way that's becoming so damn familiar. It's _not_ love, he tells himself and leaves it at that.

The cleanup is more work than thought, so he lets his thoughts drift as he slips his jeans back on. He grabs some cleaning spray and a rag from the hall bathroom and sprays his dad's desk down before wiping it clean and moving all the stuff on the chair to its previous spot. As he works he focuses on Dara, let's his mind drift to the heavy, bright feeling that floods through him whenever he so much as _thinks_ of the older man. He wonders if Dara feels the same, if his parents had before the divorce, if Mello's parents had. _Ever._ But the thought of Dara caring for Nichole like that sours the sex induced haze his mind is still in and he steers his mind away.

Once he's done in the office he cracks a window to get rid of the smell of sweat and sex and heads to the bathroom. He strips for a second time, turns on the water, and steps under the warm spray, adjusting the temperature until it's just a tad too hot. His parents still aren't home by the time he's done showering, so he pops a couple ibuprofen and curls up on his bed with his GameBoy. He plays until his eyes hurt. Later, as he shoves the device under his pillow, his mom peeks her head in and smiles as he pretends to sleep, muttering a soft _I love you_ into the semi-darkness.

He sleeps and dreams of Dara, dreams of sex and heat, and of something that he's afraid to put a name to.

...

The sun's just setting when he wakes up again, the hangover induced headache from earlier having faded into a cotton ball of fuzziness stuffed between his ears. There's a fresh glass of water on his dresser beside a bottle of ibuprofen and he silently thanks his mother. Gulping the water down, he forsakes the pills since he doesn't really need them and sits the glass back on the night stand.

He slips on a shirt with his boxers and makes his way down to the kitchen, feet padding near silent on the carpeted floor. Only his mom is there, cradling a steaming cup of what smells like green tea.

"Evening kiddo," She greets with a smile, pushing her porcelain tea pot toward him. He grabs a cup from the cupboard, fills it halfway and sits across the island from her. "How was your night with Mello?" She asks and it hit's Matt what his mom is insinuating immediately, makes his fingers lock up around his cup. Because _this_, this feels like a test.

"Good." He tells her, then coughs around the dryness in his throat, takes a drink of tea before he continues. "We went to a club with some friends, then crashed as his place."

His mom nods, hazel-green eyes searching his own for a moment before she takes drink herself. "That's good, you too don't hang out enough anymore. Of course, that bitch Nichole might have something to do with that."

That startles a laugh out of Matt, causes him to nearly choke on his tea. His mom chuckles in response, the seriousness disappearing completely from the room. The sun catches on her hair, the dusk light turning the silvery orange strands into muted lines of fire and Matt has to take a moment to really appreciate that she's here.

"I've missed you so freaking much mom." He admits, cutting off the tail end of her mirth and she grabs his hand over the counter top, gives it a little squeeze.

"I'm here now, always will be." She tells him and Matt thinks about telling her. Really, _really_ thinks about it and for once he doesn't feel a reflexive tremor of fear at the notion. She looks at him, eyes peaceful and expression open, like he can tell her anything without judgement. And that scares him a little too, because he doesn't deserve such open trust.

"Mom, I..." He hesitates, tries to think of the right words to explain what's going on with Dara, but before he can the sound of footsteps in the hall shuts him down.

"Hey kiddo...Veronica," His dad greets, dressed in a plain t-shirt and jeans for once. His mom's expression changes immediately, closing off a little but taking on a sort of faded happiness that makes a part of Matt rise with hope.

Thierry catches the look, cheeks pinking a little as he smiles back at her and Matt has to blink a few times because-"Ohmygod you guys are totally still in love!" He nearly shouts and Thierry gives a look that would be insulting if he wan't his father.

"We never weren't." His mom says, voice soft and happy. "We just...needed to do what was necessary for a bit. I had a serious problem and we both knew staying here wouldn't do me any good."

"So you moved to Nevada." Matt fills in, more statement that question and he feels like he should have known this before now.

"To get some space and get clean." Thierry affirms, bypassing the tea for a cup of coffee from the machine on the counter.

"And what, you're going to get back together?" He asks, because he really has to. His mom shakes her head though, cradles her cup a little more firmly.

"I think...that with the time apart, your father and I have realized that we don't necessarily have to be married to be happy together. It was tough living in separate states and sharing custody of you, sure, but I honestly think things would have gotten a lot uglier if we hadn't. So, for now we're taking things slow."

"Glacial." His dad adds and his mom laughs again.

...

The rest of Dara's two week conference meeting passes much the same, slow and quiet with sex heavy phone calls between the two ever few days. School work speeds up too, now that they've passed through the initial slow semester. Matt becomes busy with essays and assigned reading assignments, spends more time with Mello and Halle than he does at home. His parents' relationship was steadily growing, the secretly shared smiles becoming more public, staying a little longer on their lips.

It was the fucking best.

* * *

><p><strong>More filler, I know. But I promise things pick up more in the next chapter. For now you get desk sex and Jeevas family moments. (Aren't Thierry and Veronica the cutest?!)<strong>

**I hope this chapter wasn't too slow. I like it a lot in all honestly. I do feel like this story is winding down more though, but I have no intention of wrapping things up any time soon. So no worries. **

**For the next chapter be prepared for a new OC (ohmygod what?!) and jealousy, crazy gay fucking (oh yeah!).**

**As always though, thanks for reading and take care.**

**Don't forget to leave a review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings: jealousy, explicit language, explicit sexual content, manipulation, D/s undertones.**

**A/N: Chapter Twelve, in which I introduce an OFC (and have no idea what I'm doing anymore).**

**A/N (2): I accidentally posted the wrong lyrics for chapter eleven so, I had to switch them. They were meant for this chapter, in case any of you feel a sense of Deja Vu.**

_Being me can only mean_  
><em>Feeling scared to breathe<em>  
><em>If you leave me then I'll be afraid of everything<em>  
><em>That makes me anxious, gives me patience, calms me down<em>  
><em>Lets me face this, let me sleep, and when I wake up, let me be<em>  
><em>When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place <em>  
><em>When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might end up being me<em>

**Afraid by The Neighborhood**

* * *

><p>The day that Dara is supposed to arrive back from Arizona Matt begs off of school with a 'stomach ache' and waits for his parents to leave before hopping into Chevelle. He's not sure how much time he has before Dara arrives from the airport so he drives straight to the man's apartment and starts setting things up.<p>

Which isn't really that hard because he only has to move one thing. Once that thing is positioned in the bedroom, instead of the entry hall, he spends the next hour or so in the shower, using up all the hot water because he can. He makes sure he's prepared, because he'd promised Dara a birthday present, something special, and he'd be damned if they weren't going to have the most insane marathon sex when the older man got back.

He's just leaving the bedroom for the second time (now in a t-shirt and boxers) in so many hours when he catches the tell tale jingle of a key in the lock and has the sense to throw himself onto the couch and pretend to be absorbed in his Gameboy (the GameBoy having been strategically placed on the coffee table for such a reason). He supposes that that is why he doesn't see _her_ right away.

"Next time you go out on a business trip you're fucking me into the matt... Who the hell is that?!" He breaks off mid-sentence, green eyes wide as he catches sight of the small strawberry blonde girl standing slightly behind Dara. She meet's his gaze, her smile fading when he simply stares back, anger making him flush. Or maybe that was embarrassment. It sure as hell was _something_, because Dara had brought a...a

"Matt, this is Mia, she's going to be attending Venice High School here in Los Angeles." An art student apparently. Well, Matt can play along to that. Or maybe not.

"Not just any high school would do, I suppose." He says and Dara shoots him a disapproving look. Which is fucking rich. They are going to have _words_ once Mia is out of the way. He just has to _get_ her out of the way first.

Mia flushes in response to his words but she also emerges from behind Dara and Matt raises an eyebrow in response. (And okay, maybe Matt's being a bit of an ass but Dara brought a girl into the apartment! That _meant something_ in this fucked up fiasco of a relationship.) "I came to LA for the Creative Arts programs. There are a lot more options than in AZ, but I won't be staying here."

"She's actually going to be staying with Nichole and Mello, as per request of her father. I was just her chauffeur, for all intents and purposes." And that loosens Matt's resolve to punch Dara once they're alone, just a bit. Today was supposed to be special, goddammit.

"So, you're not..." He hesitates, feeling slightly dumb and exposed, sitting on the couch in his boxers and glaring like a jealous boyfriend.

"Fucking? God no." Dara says and Mia's eyes widen in understanding.

"Oh. Oh! You're his lover. Partner? ...Boy-" She verbally stumbles to a stop and Matt almost winces in sympathy. Almost. Despite everything, a quick glance at Dara shows that the man is silently laughing, eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. After a moment's awkward silence in which both teenagers grow more and more red, Dara finally takes pity on them and grabs his keys from the little decorative table by the door.

"Grab your bags from the entrance hall, Mia, and I'll drop you off at Nichole's." He tells her and she's smart enough to take the obvious cue to leave. After the door clicks shut behind her Dara turns to Matt with a smirk curving his lips. "I have to admit," He leans downs, brushing his lips to Matt's hair. "Jealousy suits you."

"I'm sure." Matt replies, tone dry and Dara's smirk grows into a satisfied smile.

"How about you work through your feelings while I drop her off, then when I get back we'll discuss why you smell like you drowned yourself in my entire bottle of body wash." Dara tells him, voice low and hinting at something that leaves Matt hot in more than just anger. Which is why he lets Dara kiss him, quick and deep, before pulling away.

The door opens and closes again as he sits there, thinking ever so obediently. It takes him a couple of moments to realize what Dara had done, bringing Mia here instead of straight to Mello's. "You fucking asshole," He mutters into the empty air of the living room, because Dara had wanted him jealous. Had wanted him angry and he has no fucking idea _why_. So he waits, playing through a few levels of Zelda as the time ticks by. He's just wrapping up chapter four of the game when Dara comes back in and he doesn't even bother to look up. He's not angry, although he should be, but he can play at being angry all he wants.

"You're an asshole, you know that, right?"

"Not so much," Dara steps closer, kneels down and takes the game out of his hands. "Just curious."

"And curiosity made you bring a girl here with the intent of getting me angry?"

"No." Dara says and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, chaste and soft, like Matt is some angry housewife that needs persuading. And that, oh that makes him angry. So he turns his head and captures Dara's lips, pressing in and taking in a way he never has. Dara hums, in surprise or satisfaction, he doesn't know. And he doesn't care.

"You should apologize." He says when he pulls back and Dara raises an eyebrow, collected as ever. Suddenly, he wants to reverse their roles, to make Dara be the one that begs for once. He wants to know that Dara wants this as much, more, than he does. So he leans down, presses his lips to the outer shell of Dara's ear and whispers, "I think you'll have to show me how sorry you are." He continues, echoing Dara's words from when they'd had sex in his and Nichole's bed. "Make it up to me."

He gains the satisfaction of seeing Dara's eyes widen when he pulls back; knows that if he checked, Dara's cock would be hard and staining against the fabric of his pants. But Dara doesn't let him revel in his victory for long, just rests his chin in the dip between Matt's legs, close enough to his cock to make Matt's breath catch but far enough away to deny any friction.

"And what would you have me do, kiddo?" He asks, deft finger making short work of Matt's shirt and boxers. His thumb brushes over the head of Matt's cock and Matt has to bite his lip to hold back a gasp. He's in charge here, not Dara, not this time.

"I want you to take me to the bedroom." Matt tells him and he can tell Dara isn't particularly impressed. _Well, he'll have to fucking wait, won't he?_ Matt thinks and when Dara lifts him up, he wraps his legs around his waist and kisses him hard, not letting up until one of Dara's hands tugs on his hair. He pulls away enough to let the older man breath and bites at his bottom lip, watches it redden before moving to his neck.

"We're still in the living room." He observes and Dara growls a low reply, but starts toward the bedroom. Once inside, Dara drops him on the bed and makes to crawl over him but Matt presses the flat of his foot against his chest and watches in near fascination when Dara slowly kneels at the foot of the bed.

"Ahahah," He 'tsk's and Dara's eyes darken to a slate grey, pupils dilating but never losing his composure. Matt hates him for it a little, but if Dara can do it, then so can he. So he spreads his legs open a little wider, puts himself on display, watches as Dara gaze follows the movement like a predator to its prey and waits, willing his heart to stop racing. He gets what he's waiting for when Dara's eyes finally travel to his face, eyes slightly glazed but no less sharp, and he subconsciously licks his lips at the stark display of _want_ in Dara's expression.

"I want you to sucks me off. But only use your mouth, no hands on me or yourself." And that gets something from Dara, whether it's approval or irritation he doesn't care to know but Dara does as he says, teasing him with slow deliberate licks before he opens his mouth and takes him in. Matt has to resist the urge to grab Dara by the hair and fuck him, especially when Dara pulls off all the way to the tip and sucks. Matt bites back a moan but can't stop from bucking his hips. Dara swallows convulsively and pulls off to gasp.

"Jesus, kiddo." He hisses and Matt smiles back at him.

"I won't say sorry until you do." He tells the man and laughs at the near glare Dara shoots him. That doesn't stop him from rolling his hips up in the universal symbol for more though and Dara studies him for a long moment before returning to his cock. This time he runs a rand through his hair first and Matt doesn't understand the gesture until the front strands tickle his stomach as Dara bottoms out.

"Fuck." _Fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck! _

"Liked that, huh?" Dara murmurs once he releases Matt with a wet sound. The breath of his words puff over Matt and he hisses in response. Reaching under the pillow above him. Matt triumphantly uncovers a bottle of lube and resist the urge to smile when Dara hums his approval.

"Very much. In fact, I think you deserve a reward." He says and Dara's shoulders twitch, but he doesn't protest Matt's belittling tone. He simply catches the bottle of lube when Matt tosses it to him and pools a little on his fingers.

Matt props himself up on his elbows to watch as Dara circles his rim once, twice, before pressing in to the fist knuckle. Matt doesn't wait to adjust fully, simply clenches his muscles around the digit and watches the flame lust in Dara's gaze turn into a bonfire.

"Keep going." He commands and that first fingers is joined by a second with no more than a gasp from the redhead.

"_Schön,_" Dara murmurs and Matt knows enough German from Mello to know what Dara just called him. _Beautiful._

The third finger soon joins the first two, and honestly, Matt's impressed. Dara hasn't touched himself at all. When he mentions as much, Dara gives him a look.

"You said I couldn't." He explains and Matt's nerves light up, heart thrumming. He watches as Dara returns to his task, wondering why the other man has decided to play along instead of just taking him. Fuck knows Matt would have let him. But Dara doesn't need to know that, he decides and presses his foot against the man''s chest again. Dara gets the message right away and leans back on his heels, fingers leaving Matt with a slightly hollow feeling.

"Strip," Dara rises to his feet, hands going to the buttons of his white shirt first as he kicks his shoes off. "Then fuck me."

Those fingers pause for the briefest of moments, then continue their work, quick and familiar. The shirt comes off with a shrug of Dara's shoulders and Matt sucks in a breath. Sure he's seen Dara in all his naked glory before, but he's never been able to lean back and enjoy the view, never been clear minded enough to really take in how hot Dara really tan trousers are next, then the briefs and Dara's standing there naked while they stare at each other. It's not Matt that moves first, but Dara, as he kneels onto the bed and presses a kiss to Matt's throat. Matt opens his mouth to ask what the Dara's waiting for when the man pushes his knees nearly to his chest and presses into him in one smooth movement. It takes a bit for Matt to adjust, because it's been too long, fucking forever, but Dara seems to know the exact moment he does because he inches deeper, until he's buried inside the redhead entirely.

"I remember telling you to fuck me." Matt finally says when Dara doesn't immediate being to move. Dara lets out an annoyed breath but pulls out enough to press back in with more force. Matt hisses out a sound of approval and drops down flat to the bed.

"And I remember when you begged instead of ordered." Dara replies, lips sweeping over Matt's neck. Matt angles his head to allows him more access at the same time that he let out a breathless laugh.

"I don't plan to be the one begging." He whispers back and Dara's only reply was a particularly harsh thrust of his hips. Matt's breath catches before he let out a moan and grinds his hips against Dara. After that, neither of them speak beyond the occasional demands from Matt and German expletives from Dara. Matt feels like his blood is simmering under his skin, chest aching with the need to breath beyond the mounting pleasure in his veins. That pleasure sparks sharply when Dara changes angle, pressing in impossibly deeper as Matt lets loose a loud moan. In response Matt presses his nails into the skin of Dara's back and drags them down, not enough to break the skin but enough to sting. That earns him a bite and Matt almost laughs but Dara picks up speed, pounding into him in a way that makes Matt's eyes roll in ecstasy.

"Fuck daddy, fuck." Matt bites out as Dara bit at his pulse point. Dara can no doubt feel his pulse racing as he licks over the skin afterward but he doesn't comment. Instead he grabs Matt's legs and wraps them around his wait before pressing his forearms into the mattress by Matt's head. Matt knows Dara can't get any deeper than he already is but that doesn't mean he can't still take Matt's breath away. So when he hits that bundle of nerves inside him, Matt's whole world lights up and he forgets to breath for a few mind numbing moments. He comes back to warmth on his stomach and Dara's face pressed into his shoulder as his own orgasm rocks through him.

"You're fucking brilliant kiddo." Dara murmurs once he catches his breath and Matt hums, eyes drifting closed as the blonde pulls out of him.

...

"So Dara dropped some girl off at out house on Saturday." Mello announces when Matt meets him in front of the school on Monday and Matt widens his eyes in appropriate surprise.

"Really? What the hell for?" He asks and Mello shrugs.

"Don't know, apparently she's down here to get some art degree or something but that doesn't explain why she's staying with us."

"Maybe because she can't stay with Dara, it wouldn't look right." He suggests and his mind yells _hypocrite!_ right back at him.

"Apparently her parents were really good friends with mine before they moved to Phoenix or some shit."

"Then they probably don't know that Dara and Nichole are splitting."

Mello snorts. "'Course they don't. Dara wouldn't want his business buddies to know that he's piece of shit father." Mello says, voice harsh and Matt crushes down the urge to defend Dara. Seriously, _what the fuck_? Dara's fucking horrible, there was no getting around that. _But not to you, _that annoying voice reminds him and he really wishes he could tell it to shut up without sounding insane.

"But get this," Mello continues at the same time that someone yells "Hey, Mello!" from the cluster of students ahead. "She's decided to come here instead of whatever fancy ass school her parents chose." The blonde finishes as Mia races into view. Her eyes widen when she seems Matt, mouth forming a perfect O of surprise.

Beside him, Mello rolls his eyes and ignores her, while Matt nearly has a heart attack. Mia, for her part, pretends like she's never met Matt before, offering him a bright smiles, as she bounces on her feet. Matt hates her a little, but she smiles and nods like he's happy to meet her.

But he can't help but thinking that things just got infinitely more complicated.

* * *

><p><strong>Holy shit, this chapter was a monster! But, nevertheless, I hope you all like it. <strong>

**What do you think of the new twist to Matt and Dara's jaunts? What do you think of Mia so far? Any hopes for what's going to happen next? **

**Funnily enough, Mia's name was going to be Linda before I remembered that was an actual DN character and had to change it. So if you see any Linda's, let me know!**

**Until next time though, I love you all and look forward to posting the next chapter!**

**Reviews are love,**

**checkerboardom**

**P.S: Please excuse any errors, it's nearly midnight and I have to get up for work in a couple hours, so I didn't comb through for mistakes like I normally would.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings/tags: unhealthy relationships, statutory rape, underage drinking, daddy kink, explicit language, explicit sexual content, blindfolds, sensory deprivation, kinks, spanking, orgasm denial, D/s undertones, bdsm, after care, the L word.**

**A/N: This story is going to kill me. Kill. Me. TO. DEATH!**

_You're so bad but I want a taste._

_A little taste you have, come on over_

_Right now, take me down. I want your poison._

_I thought this was just a phase, but every day I slip, starting over._

_You crawl through my skin, and I let you in._

_Oh how you give me chills, hold my breath 'til it kills me._

_Come on, tear me apart, don't stop, I haven't had enough._

_You're mine, 'til the sun comes up._

**A Little Taste by Skyler Stonestreet**

* * *

><p>"So let me get this straight," Mia says, eyebrows wrinkling as she waves her spoon in the air. "You're sleeping with a guy that's old enough to be you father, who <em>is your best friend's father, <em>that you lost your virginity to in a Vegas nightclub while visiting your mother, who may or may not know about your sugar daddy because she worked at the nightclub but doesn't anymore." Mia looks a little winded, eyes wide. "Holy shit."

"Yeah." Matt agrees with a sigh. "And he's not my sugar daddy."

"Well, he's your something." She snarks back around a mouthful of her coffee bean almond fudge milkshake. Which, _ugh_. Matt doesn't know how he ended up telling her his life story, he was just supposed to take her for a ride and warn her to keep quiet about Dara. Which makes him feel like a mobster, but whatever.

Somehow she had managed to drag him into an ice cream parlor and ply him for details like a parent with their kid's first date. If he has to admit it, he's a little disturbed by how well she's coping with the information. It makes him like her just a little. But only a little.

"He's my..." Matt begins, mentally returning to the conversation, but then stops because he doesn't really have a name for what Dara is to him.

"Mm!" Mia hums around another bite. "I got it! He's your fuck buddy... booty call? Ass tapper?"

"I hate you." Matt grumbles before taking a vindictive spoonful of his own (admittedly tame!) chocolate shake.

"So Mello doesn't know?" Mia asks after another couple mouthfuls and Matt barely keeps his spoon from tumbling out of his hand.

"Fuck no!" He gasps. "Just how fucked up do you think my life is?!"

Mia tilts her head and doesn't reply, which is reply enough. She drops it until their about to leave the restaurant. So... about five minutes.

"Well, don't you think you should tell him?" She tries again once they're in the car and Matt sighs.

"That I'm fucking his dad?"

"No, that you're taken." Mia says over the growl of Chevelle's engine.

"And he needs to know that, why?" Matt draws out the last word for about three syllables too long and Mia rolls her eye. She looks like she wants to hit herself over the head with a blunt object. Matt kind of wants her to, too.

"Never mind."

...

"So, I've been thinking." Halle begins at lunch that following Monday. Which is code for 'I want to go out drinking', and sure enough. "We should take Mia out, show her around."

Anthony shrugs and Mello narrows his eyes a little, like he's thinking, but Matt knows he doesn't really care, just so long as he's not home with his mother.

"Sounds good." The blonde tells her with a bored huff. "Matt can pick Mia and I up, meet you guys."

"Um, actually I had a thing planned for tonight." A thing that involves Dara and way overdue birthday sex. Immediately the entire table's attention was on him, even Mia, who raises a silent questioning eyebrow. Matt kicks her under the table and her eyes widen in understanding.

"Oh yeah, the thing with your mom. That you told me about... earlier?" Mia says, voice raising in question, and Matt wants to smack himself in the head. Mello looks at her with a frown creasing his features.

"When did he tell you anything?" He asks, which fair point. The only class Matt and Mia shared Mello was in too, so there wasn't exactly prime time for them to have talked without the blonde budding in. Mello was weird like that.

"When he took me out to get milkshakes yesterday." Mia immediately answers, which is the wrong thing to say, because Mello get this look on his face like he knows they're both lying, like he's hurt but doesn't want to show it. But Matt's known him for too long and can read him better than anyone else in the room.

_I'm going to the lowest circle of hell, _Matt thinks as the bell rings and he practically flees the cafeteria.

...

Mello doesn't catch him alone for the rest of the day. Which is mot likely because Matt usually walks faster whenever Mello opens his mouth. It's shitty, he knows it is, but he just can't. He can't handle Mello's eyes, and Mello's questions. Can't handle the overwhelming sense of _guilt_ that comes along with lying ot the one person that's always had his back, that's never, _not once_, let him down. So he avoids, avoids, _avoids _Mello like the plague and makes for Dara's as soon as possible.

Dara doesn't ask questions when Matt barges in, doesn't protest when Matt brushes his work out of his hands and kisses his long and hard. It makes him ache, makes a part of him shiver and swell and burst with an overwhelming sense of _something._ It makes him want like nothing else has, because that what anything to do with Dara does.

It's Matt that breaks first. Breaks the kiss, breaks the silence, just _breaks_.

"You know, I never did give you your birthday present." He gasps as Dara strips his shirt off and flings it to the side. The blonde hums in response, ducking down to kiss Matt's neck and down, down, down. Matt arches off the wall with a moan, fingers scrambling before finally settling in Dara's hair and tugging.

"And what, pray tell, did you have in mind?" The older man asks, breath fluttering across heated skin.

"Something new." Matt says and leaves it at that. Dara will find out soon enough and he has no doubt that he's going to love it.

Instead of asking further questions, Dara wraps his arms Matt's waist and lift him up. The redhead's breath flies out of his lungs before he's laughing. "Put me down." He orders but Dara only slaps a heavy hand across his ass and Matt yelps. He's dropped onto the bed, bouncing as the mattress makes a sound of protest. Matt's about to join it, but then Dara's stripping out of his t-shirt and jeans and Matt can't do anything but stare.

"You know I don't know why we ever though giving up sex was a good idea." Matt tells him as Dara pushes him down the bed and climbs over his body, all coiled muscles, and hunger, and Matt must be crazy if he ever wanted to give this up. He doesn't even realize that's he's said that's last bit out loud until his ears catch the sound of Dara's chuckle, all low and full of sex. It's distracting, to say the least.

"If I remember correctly, that was your suggestion." Dara begins kissing a trail down Matt's chest, to his navel and beyond that to the dusting of red hair on Matt's lower abdomen. "Not mine. Hopefully, your new one has more promise."

And that snaps Matt out of the spell Dara's put him under, reminds him of his plans for the night. "Go find my bag in the living-room. Your gift is in the front pocket." He tells him and waits until the blonde is gone before stripping the rest of his clothes off. Once that's done, he scrambles for the top drawer in the nightstand and retrieves the bottle of lube from inside. Dara comes back, surprise in hand, just as Matt's slipping the first finger in and he makes a strangled sort of sound that makes Matt still in surprise.

"Jesus, kid. What are you doing to me?" Dara asks as he settles behind him, his gift (well, part of it) laying on the bed by one of Matt's thighs. Matt doesn't answer him, doesn't move until Dara settles a hand at the base of his spine and he shivers.

The surprise is silky against his skin, a navy blue length of cloth, lightweight and breathable. Letting Dara take over, he grabs it and ties it over his eyes, double knots it so it doesn't slip loose. Instantly the world is shut out, his ears kicking in to overdrive at the loss of his sight and he can here every breath, every rustle of clothing and sheets. Dara's fingers are sure and quick, bigger than his own as they stretch him out and he moans a little at the feel, back arching as he pushes back. Dara stills him with a hand on his shoulder, holds him in place as he works him open.

After the second finger, Matt gets impatient, wants to snap at Dara to _hurry the fuck up already,_ but Dara pulls back and leaves him kneeling there on the bed. The air feels too cold against his skin now that Dara's not near and he turns his head to the side, tries to catch some hint of sound to tell him where he is. The slap comes out of nowhere, startling a cry from his lips and rocking him forward on the bed. His ass blossoms in pain in response, not quite subsiding before the next smack comes, as heavy as the first, on the other cheek. He bites back a moan, chokes it off in his throat before it can escape and clenches fistfuls of sheets in his hands.

He's left alone, shaking a little in anticipation and nerves, just until his mind starts to drift. "You know," Dara sounds from behind him, voice close, "I think I like this gift a lot." The bed dips and Dara palms at his ass, drawing a whimper and hiss from the redhead, before two more quick blows are delivered. His skin feels numb and tingly, shivering with nerves and alight with anticipation. His pulse jumps in his throat and he shifts his legs a little wider, listens for the catch of breath behind him. Dara's hands settle on his waist, firm but not quite bruising as Matt grinds back onto him. He can feel Dara, hot and hard against his ass and so he reaches out blindly for the bottle of lube and shoves it back at him with an impatient noise. Dara cottons on pretty quick if the snap of the lid is any indication, and then there's too cold liquid on on his skin, making his gasp and quake. He listens, hands digging into the sheets more than seems possible, as Dara slicks himself up. There's electricity in the air, making his whole body thrum and for a moment it's too much and not enough at the same time.

Then Dara's at his entrance, pressing in, big and familiar, but stretching him nonetheless as he slides in, slow and careful. One of the older man's hands returns to his shoulder, holds them both steady as he gives a shallow thrust. All the breath whooshes out of Matt at the feel of it, at the fullness and the closeness, and the goodness of it all. He never wants to give this up, this feeling right here. Not for anything or anyone and that scares him. What did he do to deserve this? This feeling of pleasure and fear and guilt all jumbled up into a neurotic mess at the pit of his stomach. He doesn't know that. And he doesn't know if he can live without it, not after all this time. So he pushes back, meeting Dara thrust for thrust until he's as deep as he can go. The blonde doesn't say anything, not in a verbal sense. No, he speaks with his mouth, in kisses and licks, in gentle nips and sharp, stinging bites.

It leaves Matt breathless and undone. Leaves him wanting and aching and begging. Oh, he begs, pleas and whispers falling from his lips with nearly every thrust. It hits him then, what this feeling is and he freezes up, muscles tight as his orgasm rips through him. Dara growls out a low hum of sound into his shoulder, keeps going as Matt's arms give out. He undoes the blindfold, voice soft as he praises Matt, tells him how good he is and Matt shakes with it. It's not until Dara's cumming, biting a mark into his right shoulder, that his vision blurs.

He doesn't know he's crying until Dara gathers him into his arms and presses a kiss to his neck, but he is, and he can't stop.

"Hey, shh, it's okay, you're okay." Dara soothes him with that same gentleness that always makes Matt's chest hurt, like he knew this would happen eventually and was just waiting it out. Matt wants to hate him for it, for what he's feeling, and for all the lies that he's had to tell but he can't. He can't.

There's a lot of things he can't do.

"I should hate you." Matt tells him and feels Dara nod in response.

"You should." He agrees. There's no worry in his voice though, because they both know Matt could never call it quits on this, on them.

"I did, for a while." Matt continues, mind numb in that way it gets when your emotions run wild, when you're tired inside and out. "I wanted to ruin you, to break you for being such a horrible dad to Mello, for fucking me, for threatening my dad's company."

"Then why don't you?" Dara asks, and there's curiosity there. Curiosity and a challenge. Matt doesn't take him up on it, doesn't want the drama of it all anymore. So he sighs and tucks his head into Dara's shoulder. He knows Dara will drop it, but that doesn't stop him from answering anyway, silent and to himself.

_Because I love you._

The words have been at the edge of his mind, tucked under his tongue without coherency for a while now. Before, they were just a feeling, a lightness in his chest and a spark in his mind. He doesn't know how he feels about them, so he swallows them and sighs against Dara's skin. He drifts in and out, barely stirs when Dara gets out of bed, but wakes up briefly when a damp cloth is run over his belly and thighs, then goes back under as Dara cleans him up.

He sleeps until dusk, curled up in the smell of Dara and sweat and sex. When he gets dressed and pads into the living-room, Dara's on the couch, files spread out on the low lever table as he reads.

"You know they have laptops for that kind of stuff." He says from over the blonde's shoulder and Dara hums in response.

"Some things are better off as hard copies." He says and Matt leans down, squints at the minuscule squiggles until they become words and sentences.

"Are those...account papers?" Matt asks after reading a paragraph's worth of legal jargon and monetary figures.

"Yep, for you kiddo."Dara says as he signs another page, quick and sure.

"For me?" Matt feels a little dumb, like he's missing something but Dara merely keeps thumbing through the pages.

"These," Dara says, pointing to a stack of pages on the table in front of him. "Are Mello's, stating that he gets a fourth of all my accounts holding instead of his mother getting a full half. She get's about ten percent ad the last fifteen goes to you, once you're 18."

"But, that's not possible."

"Oh, it is. I had my lawyer look into it, discreetly of course. On your birthday I can put these on file and queue them to come into affect in two years. Consider it an early birthday present."

"And those?" Matt points at the papers in Dara's hand.

"These are an application for your employment at my company starting in March, a month after you turn sixteen. They allow it so that you don't need an internship, which is policy for someone not out of college."

_This is too much, _Matt wants to say. And it is. He doesn't know whether to be shocked or touched. All he knows is that this is a big thing. That Dara is signing off for him to have a job and more money that he'll know what to do with in a couple of months. It's too much, but it's undoubtedly something Dara would do.

"Thank you." He says, for lack of better response and Dara pulls him into a kiss, eyes dark and hands searching. The papers tumble the floor and Matt watches them go.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sorry!<strong>

**I never expected to let two months (TWO MONTHS, HOLYFUCK) to go by before I updated and in all honesty I wrote this whole thing in like two hours.****I really wanted to update before I went on vacation and so I did. I hope you guys like it, and I really want to know what you think.**

**Does this chapter feel kinda poetic? I didn't mean to repeat myself so much in this chapter but I kind of got back into the flow of this story's overall voice and went with it. **

**How do you feel about the new developments between Matt and Mello, Matt and Dara? What do you think of Mia?**

**I think I'm probably going to have about two or three more chapters to this baby, along with a one-shot in Dara's POV.**

**So drop a review and tell me your thoughts! Did you hate it, did you love it? Are you confused, uncomfortable, aroused, annoyed, exasperated? Do you want this story to continue forever or do you think it's dragging out? How do you think it's going to end. I want to hear ALL YOUR THOUGHTS! **

**So drop a review! I love you!**


	14. Chapter 14

**My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings/Tags: Explicit Language, underage, mentions of statutory rape.**

**A/N: Full warning guys, this chapter is like complete and utter crap. No matter how I write it, it just doesn't turn out the way I have it in my head. Like, ugh. Also, I feel like I need to put something out there for a few of you. **

**THIS STORY IS FUCKED UP. There, I've said it. Take from that what you will, but I swear to god, if you don't understand what I mean then I think you need to re-read and really think about what the hell is going on here. Otherwise, keep reading because Mello's going to explain what I mean perfectly.**

**Oh yeah, I think you all know what's gonna happen.**

* * *

><p><em>What goes on behind these doors<em>  
><em>I'll keep mine and you keep yours<em>  
><em>We all have our secrets, we all have our secrets<em>  
><em>Here's the pride before the fall<em>  
><em>Oh your eyes they show it all<em>  
><em>I can see it coming, I can see it coming<em>  
><em>As I rise up through each floor<em>  
><em>Shit gets dark when you lose it all<em>  
><em>I can hear it coming, I can hear the drumming<em>

**No One's Here To Sleep by Bastille**

Mello isn't stupid, and if there's one thing he can't stand, it's people assuming that he is. Everybody who is anybody in his life knows this. Especially Matt. Which is exactly why the fact that the redhead has been lying to him since summer break is so fucking _infuriating_. Mello isn't stupid, especially not when it comes to Matt. So he calls Matt's mom an hour before Halle and Ridner are supposed to pick him and Mia up for their night out.

She picks up on the third ring, tone puzzled because Mello _never_ calls her. "Mello?"

"Hey, Mrs. J," Mello greets, voice layered with false cheer. "I was wondering if Matt could hang out with me and a couple friends today?"

"I don't see why not."

"Don't you have a thing planned today or something?" He asks, even though he knows they don't, because Matt's a terrible liar.

"No... Wait, he's not with you?" Her voice is laced with worry and Mello has a momentary flash of guilt. Should he have kept Matt from leaving somehow? He nearly snorts. Of course not. Matt's so fucking stubborn he would have climbed out a window or something. Dumbass.

"You don't know where he is?"

"No, I do. I just thought... Thank you Mello. For calling." She tells him and hangs up. Mello sighs and resists the urge to throw his phone at the wall.

...

The whole time he's at the club with the others he's caught up on two things. Where Matt could be, what Matt could be hiding, and getting drunk enough to not overthink both. So, three things really.

He's working on the third when someone beside him says his name and he looks up from scowling at the table to instead scowls at Mia. She smiles and he glares, because she knows what's going on with Matt even though she's only been here for a few days. And that fucking _hurts_, because why her and not him?

"What do you want?"

"Nothing." She says cheerfully, plopping down onto the booth and swinging her legs. It reminds him of the stupid girl that had had a crush on him in elementary. Linda or something.

"Then why are you here bugging me?"

"Well, I would ask you to dance, but you'd probably bite my head off." She's right, he probably would.

"And you didn't think that I'd still be annoyed by your voice?"

She shrugs, legs swinging and he turns away, watching the dancers and trying (unsuccessfully) not to worry about Matt.

"You like him, don't you?" She asks, voice barely audible over the music. "Matt?"

He nearly gives himself whiplash with how fast he turns to look at her, eyes wide and angry. "Fuck off."

"Oh, kitty has claws. Calm down tiger, I was just curious."

"Well stop, it just makes you sound stupid."

"That makes two of us then." She tells him and Mello's fists clench.

"What?"

"You." She says simply, and she doesn't look like a dumb girl right now. She looks like Halle does when she thinks Mello's doing something incredibly stupid. "You like him, but you're letting him do whatever, be with someone else when you're- Shit!"

What? "Matt's with somebody? That's why he turned down tonight?" It makes sense in a weird way, but who?

"No, no, that's... He has a thing with his mom." Mia tries and Mello realizes that she's an even worse liar than Matt is.

"No, he doesn't."

"Huh?"

"He doesn't, he was lying. Who is he with?"

And she looks so fucking uncertain for a moment, before ducking her head with a sigh. "I can't tell you-"

"Why not?" He cuts her off, because he's so sick of the secrets and the lies and the shit.

"Because you wouldn't believe me. Because I promised not to tell." _Because it's not her secret to tell_. is the unspoken truth and Mello feels achingly disappointed in her.

"Mia..." He tries but she gets up and he stops.

"Just ask him, okay?" She tells him and then disappears into the crowd of dancers.

...

He doesn't ask him. He don't even contemplate asking him. Because if there's one thing the last couple months have taught him, it's that Matt will avoid him harder than a nun in a sex shoppe. So he does the next best thing and follows him after school the next day. Which is exactly how he ends up perched outside a familiar apartment building on his motorcycle, staring at the door that Matt's disappeared through with a sick feeling sinking into his gut.

"What the fuck are you doing Matty?" He mutters to himself as he fishes around in his backpack for his spare key. He finds it at the bottom underneath his binder and a Toblerone wrapper. He goes up the stairs slow and quiet, careful not to make any noise because his stomach is knotting up with dread and worry and a whole lot of other emotions that he doesn't want to think about. Even when he's standing on the little section leading up to the door he still can't quell the feeling that he should turn around and walk away, should pocket his key and leave Matt to his secrets. But he doesn't, because he's so fucking worried (and _tired_ of worrying) about his best friend.

So he takes a deep breath and unlocks the door, opening it slow and breathing out a near painful sigh of relief when it doesn't creek. He doesn't know what he expects when he opens the door but an empty hallway isn't one of them. He doesn't know whether to be relieved or not, doesn't know what to feel anymore. So he takes a deep breath and closes the door behind himself before making his way to the equally empty living room. Which only leaves two places Matt could plausibly be; the kitchen and the bathroom, because there is no way he's in the... Oh

Oh, fuck.

"Matt?" He asks, confused and unbelieving, because his best friend is kissing his dad right there in the kitchen, one hand buried in his hair and the other reaching down... "Oh my god." And he doesn't know whether to throw up or punch Dara in the face when Matt startles away from the older man with such a look of horror that he could cry. He can't look at Dara, can't look away from Matt as his best friend stands there in shock, eyes wide with panic.

It's so fucking quiet, like everyone's holding their breath. Waiting for the pin to drop.

"I-I, Mello, I..." Matt stutters and cringes when Dara not so subtly snorts from behind him.

"You're...with my dad? You're fucking Dara?" And then to his father, fuck, _his father_. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"It's not like that!" Matt protests instantly and Mello can't help but glare at him.

"Oh really? You're really going to fucking stand there with your pants undone in my- _his_ kitchen and say that?" Mello asks, incredulous and hurt and oh so fucking angry.

"...I" Matt begins but they both know there's nothing that he could say to make this situation better, because _there is no better_.

"You're fucking sick." Mello tells Dara instead, voice an angry hiss. "He's fifteen, you fucking pedophile, and I can't believe-"

"Stop yelling at him like I'm a victim!" Matt cuts in and Mello can barely believe what he's hearing.

"You _are_ a victim!" He yells back and he's so fucking furious at Matt for being so _stupid_, for standing up for Dara like he's not sick in the head. "Having sex with a minor is statutory rape Matt, he's a fucking rapist!"

"It's consensual!"

"No, it's not!" And Mello wants to grab Matt and shake him, wants to hug him close and never let go. He wants to kick Dara in the balls and call the police, do _something_ other than stand here and yell at his best friend about how fucked up this is. But most of all he wants to cry, because how fucked up does the world have to be for this to happen? "You fucking stay away from him, I swear to god."

He's not sure who he says it to, Dara or Matt, jesus, but he knows that if he ever catches the other blonde anywhere near Matt again he'll kill him. The realization startles him, sends a nauseous shiver down his spine. He wants to be sick,wants to throw up and scream and punch Matt for being so fucking stupid. But he also wants to hug Matt, because this isn't fair, not to him, not to anyone. It's sick and he feels so fucking angry and guilty for not having seen it before.

Somehow they end up outside, him and Matt, and he barely registers shoving Matt into Chevelle and hopping into the driver seat himself. Matt's quiet beside him, eyes shining with tears, hands clenched with a sick look on his face.

"I'm sorry." He says halfway to the Jeevas house and Mello pulls onto the side of the road with a screech of tires and a storm of gravel. He gets out and slams the door, breathing quick and angry before throwing up into the dirt. When he's done his throat burns just as much as his eyes and he punches Chevelle's trunk to relieve some of the tension but it doesn't help. When he gets back into the car, Matt hasn't moved and he doesn't try to talk again. It's silent besides the occasional angry exhale from Mello and Matt's short hiccupping breaths. Mello can see the track of his tears whenever he glances to the side and it only makes him angrier.

How dare he. _H__ow fucking dare he_ do this to him. Fuck!

When they get to Matt's house the redhead stumbles out of the car and makes his way to his room, door closing with a slam. Mello's about to follow him but Mrs. Jeevas stops him with a hand on his upper arm. She looks haunted for a moment, but smiles around it and he feels sick.

"Is he...?" And it's in her eyes, the truth, the fear and horror and, god, the unbearable sadness. She looks broken and all he can do is nod, watching her face crumble with grief.

"You knew?" He asks, wondering why she didn't_ do anything_.

She shakes her head though. "I worried, god, but I never thought... There was the night in the club but he told me nothing had happened." She hiccups, fingers tightening on his arm. "I shouldn't have believed him. And now, god, my poor baby..."

"You weren't the only one he lied to." He says, stiffly, because he's mad at her too, because _she worried?! _She suspected and just let it go, like someone wasn't... Jesus, he can't even think it. Fuck.

She lets him go, but he stays where he is, gaze locked on Matt's closed door. It won't help to go in there. All he'll end up doing is yelling and making Matt cry. They need time to breath, to think of what to say. He turns back to Mrs. Jeevas, notes her trembling hands and sighs.

"I need you to take me back to his apartment." He tells her, pocketing Matt's keys, and her eyes widen.

"I can...do you think he'll be...?" She looks helplessly at the door and Mello nods.

"He's upset, but he's not an idiot. He'll be fine."

"Okay." She nods and grabs her keys. "Okay."

...

The ride over is suffocatingly quiet. Mello feels like he's heading to a funeral or something, stomach in knots and spine stiff with tension. The apartment comes into view too soon and not soon enough. He wants to burn it to the ground, but that's not fair to the other people living there. Taking a moment to breath, he gets out of the car and nearly startles when Mrs. Jeevas follows him.

When she sees the look on his face she gives him a watery smile. "I think I have a right to this as much as you." She tells him and he leads the way up the stairs.

He almost expects Dara to have done the smart (cowardly) thing and run, but he's there when Mello steps in the living room. He's put a t-shirt on but his hair is no less ruffled, posture relaxed and arrogant. That is, until Mrs. Jeevas storms in and punches him so hard his head snaps to the side.

"You fucking bastard!" She screams and Mello regretfully drags her back as Dara wipes at the blood on his lip.

The older man grimaces but lets out a short chuckle. "I deserved that."

This time when Veronica gets free, she gets in three punches before grabbing him by his hair.

"Don't you dare fucking laugh, you peice of shit!" She hisses into his face and Mello feels a lick of fear travel down his spine. She looks murderous, enraged and lethal. He doesn't know if he should stay out of her way or join her, to be honest. Dara holds up a placating hand, grey eyes dark, and muscles taunt. He looks just as furious as she does and the bolt of fear that Mello feels is completely different this time.

She doesn't seem to realize (or care) about the danger she's in though, because she just tightens her grip on the blonde hair in her hand and narrows her eyes. "If you ever touch my baby again, I'll fucking end you. I'll raze your business to the ground, take the security tape of your night at the club with my son to court, and get you locked away for the rest of your fucking life. " She tells him, voice low and she gives him another shake. "Do I make myself clear?"

Dara looks mutinous, fists clenched as he glares at her. "Crystal."

She lets him go with a sharp yank, slamming her knee into his chin and he groans as he curls forward, holding his face. Mello swallows as she walks past him to the door. His fists clench and unclench, undecided on what to say. Finally he settles on following Mrs. Jeevas example and simple punches his father in the face.

"You're a fucking piece of shit and this, what you did to Matt, it's never happening again." Mello tells him and Dara lets out a breathy laugh.

"Matt said the same thing to me once and look what happened."

Mello punches him again and leaves.

...

His fists ache the whole ride home from where they're gripping the throttle of his bike. Mrs. Jeevas had watched him leave, before leaving herself, and  
>Mello hopes to god this is the last time they ever have to do something like this again. When he gets home his mom is waiting at the head of the stairs, smile firmly in place.<p>

"Where were you?"

"Out with Matt." He tells her and her eyes narrow in disgust.

"Oh." She says and it hits Mello like a tonne of bricks to the chest, nearly knocking his breath out.

"You_ knew_." He says, tone incredulous as she watches him. "You fucking knew and you didn't do a damn thing about it!" It's not a question, they both know it isn't and Mello's fucking_ furious_.

"What was I going to do?" She questions back and Mello feels like he's been slapped. "We would have lost everything, more than we already are in the divorce, and for what?"

He isn't hearing this. This is some sick joke or something, because his mom isn't that heartless. There's no way. "What for?" He repeats numbly and for some reason that finally breaks him. Tears start to roll down his cheeks, and he's so angry at his mom, at Matt, at Dara, at the entire damn world for letting this happen. "He's a fucking kid, my _best friend_, and you knew! You fucking knew what dad was doing to him and didn't say a goddamn thing!"

"He didn't seem to object." She observed and Mello fists clenched as he stormed past her on the stairs.

"You're just as bad as _he_ is." He tells her and doesn't wait for her response. He makes his way to his room and slams the door shut behind him, before leaning back against it with a broken sigh as he slides down to the floor. He stays there for a long time, simply staring at the wall as his eyes slowly dry. When a tentative knock vibrates against the door he waits long enough to find out it's Mia before telling her to fuck off. She doesn't, but merely slides his phone under the door.

The screen is lit up with a message from his voicemail. It takes a few tries for him to dial it, his hands are shaking so bad but he manages. Eventually.

"You have one new message." The computerized voice intones and Mello quickly presses one before it can continue. "First unheard message: _Hey Mello, it's Matt... I guess I'm calling to say I'm sorry... For everything... I never meant for you to find out, not like this." _Matt's recording chuckles. "_God, I've fucked up so bad. You have every right to be angry, I know you do, but please, _please _believe me when I say that I would have done anything to keep this from happening, from it ever effecting you." _There's a sigh before the message ends and this time Mello does throw his phone at the wall.

He sits there for a long time, staring at the pieces.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: You don't understand the pain that this chapter put me through. I started hysterically ranting to Rachel over this chapter. It has it's own playlist on my computer, FOR GOD'S SAKE! **

**So anyway, what do you think of Mello's POV? Is he out of character? ****What about the responses of Matt and Mello's moms? Dis you like it, hate it, don't care?**

**I eagerly await your thoughts and reviews. So click below and let me know!**

**Hugs and kisses, **

**Lena**


	15. Chapter 15

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings/Tags: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, unhealthy relationships, implied rape/non-con, off screen rape/non-con, reference to non-consensual drug use, underage drinking, bad touch, date rape drugs, trigger warning like whoa.**

**A/N: Guys. Guys! I'm totally in love with this chapter. I love it and if I totally wasn't going to marry UsernameUnderConstruction for being the most amazing muse ever I'd totally marry it. You hear that Rhapsody, this is me internet proposing you psychic enabler, you!**

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><p><em>You said you'd wait forever<em>

_But I blinked_

_And the world was gone_

_You wade through the water_

_Slowly your hands grow numb_

_I wish you felt me falling_

_I wish you'd watched over me_

_You said you'd wait forever_

_But I blinked_

_And the world was gone_

**And The World Was Gone by Snow Ghosts**

Unsurprisingly, Matt isn't at school the next day, a fact that Mello doesn't know to be glad about or not. It's not until third period English rolls around that he starts to worry, because what if Matt isn't home? What if he's... He shudders, feels sick to his stomach and excuses himself to the restroom.

Matt picks up on the second ring, sounding tired and wrung out. "I gotta say Mells, I wasn't expecting you to call me. Ever."

"I just... Where are you?" Mello manages, resting his forehead against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. Which, ew, but whatever.

"I'm not out fucking your dad if that's what you're asking." Matt tells him and Mello practically flinches back.

"Matt..."

"No," Matt interrupts, angry now and Mello's so sick and tired of being angry that he just feels empty. "Fuck you, you know you were thinking it!"

"Well, what do you want me to think?!" He yells back. "I didn't fuck my _best friend's dad_! I don't know how your mind works."

"Oh fuck you, you could pretend to be here for me instead of accusing me-"

"Do you even hear yourself? Be there for you? That's all I've been trying to do for the _past three months_, Matt. You've been avoiding _me_ and treating _me_ like shit since the first week of school! Were you ever going to tell me or were you going to just keep fucking him and laugh at me because I was too stupid to figure it out?"

There's complete silence on the other end of the line and Mello's left fist clenches against the wall, breathing out through his nose in an angry exhale. He's about to speak when he hears a choked sound and realizes that Matt's probably crying. He should feel like shit, but he doesn't. Matt deserves to cry for a while, but it doesn't make him feel better either. So, he breaths for a moment, in and out, one-two-three exhale, before speaking.

"Stop crying Matt, just... I'm..." Not sorry. He's not fucking sorry. He doesn't need to apologize for this. He hasn't done anything wrong.

"No, god, I couldn't tell you." Matt sniffles, voice thick. "What was I supposed to say Mello? 'Hey, I totally fucked your dad over summer break and then kept doing it because it felt good'?"

"Matt-"

"And fuck me, you know it did. I tried... fuck, I told him it couldn't ever happen again, told him no, but then he just had to go and try to buy my dad's company.

"Matt, that's not-"

"So I made a fucking deal and now I'm stuck with it."

"That's sexual coercion." Mello finally manages, feeling numb. If he wasn't holding the phone, he'd probably be dry heaving into a toilet right now, but he keeps it in because he need to hear this. No, _Matt_ needs to hear this. Matt needs to say what happened out loud so that he can understand just what Dara's done to him. Mello knows that, but it fucking _hurts_. "Matt, he held your dad's company over your head, what were you supposed to do?"

"Not give him a blow job while he talks to my dad, that's for sure." Matt says with a hollow laugh and Mello hears the bell ring for changeover. But it's distant, like a buzz in his ears. "You don't understand Mello, fuck, how could you? I wanted to hurt him at first, for what he did to you, but now... I don't know. I don't know and that scares me so fucking much. I don't know what I'm doing but I don't want to stop. Even now, and how fucked up does that make me?"

Mello doesn't know. He doesn't answer either, because what do you say to that? What _can_ you say to that?

"I don't know." Mello tells him and Matt gives another hollow laugh, like he's breaking on the inside.

"Go back to class Mello." And he hangs up, leaving Mello leaning against the bathroom wall with his phone held loosely to his ear, listening to the static-y silence before the dial tone.

...

Matt doesn't know what he's doing when he drives up to Dara's apartment. He's fucking tired, tired of all this shit with Dara and Mello. He just wants his life back. He feels like he has a fever, mind fuzzy and skin clammy. He ignores the trembling in his hands when he knocks on the door, ignores the fluttering feeling of panic and want and guilt that's knocking around in his chest like a demented bird.

When the door opens he loses his breath, is stepping forward and pressing a hand to the bruise across Dara's cheek before he can stop himself. It's not a hard touch, just a skimming of fingers, so fucking tender that he could punch himself because this is not why he's here, dammit!

"What happened?" He asks, letting Dara pull him further into the apartment and push the door closed behind him. It's not the only bruise, either. There are a few more smattered across the left side of his face and theres a cut along his eyebrow.

"Your mom decided to pay a visit with my son in toe." Dara says as he walks around the small kitchen, preparing a glass of whiskey. Matt stands in the doorway, feeling lost as he hears the clink of ice against glass.

"My mom? She knows?" He asks and then wants to smack himself in the forehead because of course she fucking knows. "I'm sorry."

"Not, your fault kiddo." Dara tells him and leans close, going for a kiss, but Matt pulls away because he can't. Dara stops though, brows furrowed a little. "What's wrong?"

"I can't... not right now, not... I need to talk to you and I can't do that when we..."

"Hey, hey kiddo, relax. We won't if you don't want to." Dara tells him and sits the glass down, pulls him into a hug. And Matt fucking _trembles, _because Dara's not supposed to be like this, he's not supposed to be understanding and act like he cares. It hits him then that Dara might care about him in the same fucked up way Matt does and that throws him for a fucking loop, because, god, they're fucked.

Dara pulls him into the living room and sits down on the couch and Matt doesn't know how he ends up in his lap but he's there. It's a bad idea, hell, _coming here_ was a bad idea but he needs answers. He needs to understand and put all this shit behind him even though it might be killing him on the inside. And he doesn't even know what he wants to say! He's just here, sitting in Dara's lap like he's not fucked up in too many ways to count, trying to explain the utter sense of confusion and betrayal that he feels right now.

So of course what comes out is, "Do you love me?" Fuck.

Dara doesn't react how he expects him to, simply tilts his head (raising a brow like he usually does must be too painful and Matt's fucking screwed because he knows this man's facial quirks, jesus) and taps a finger against his glass like Matt may or may not be having a crisis.

"What do you mean, kiddo? Look at you, you're beautiful." He kisses his neck, quick, before Matt can pull away, and continues. "You're perfect for me. Why wouldn't I love you?"

And fuck, that's all he needs. Because Dara doesn't really love him, not in the way he means. It's in the steady calm in his eyes, the calculated look that he has when he calls him beautiful and Matt can't believe he didn't see it before. Dara loves the idea of him, that's painfully clear. He loves what Matt is, what he made him and Matt feels sick to his bones. There's another kiss, this time closer to his shoulder as Dara's fingers curl around the hem of his shirt.

Matt's standing before he knows he's even moved and Dara watches him, eyes flickering. "I can't. I said..."

"Shh, it's okay, I'm sorry." Dara assures and pulls him back, voice so tender that Matt goes boneless in his grip. "You see what you do to me kiddo. I can't control myself around you, you know? You drive me crazy."

He's cradled against the older man's chest, head on his shoulder as Dara presses a light kiss to his hair. It's seems like seconds, minutes, hours later, when Dara hands him his whiskey glass. The ice is partially melted, making the glass slippery in his grip, but he holds it tight and drinks it down even though it burns. It warms him up, banishing some of the numb feeling in his stomach and makes him tired. Oh so, fucking tired.

So he sleeps.

...

The next time he wakes up he's standing. He's standing outside of Mello's house, practically leaning on the wall of the little porch enclosure thingy, and he doesn't remember waking up. He doesn't remember leaving Dara's place but when he looks behind him at the driveway, Chevelle is parked in a haphazard angle across the cement. He nearly hit Mello's bike by the looks of it and he thinks he feels bad about that. Or relieved that he didn't. He doesn't know. His head feels fuzzy, but when he tries to shake it and clear it he nearly topples over. When he rights himself, he's pressed against the doorbell but he's too tired to move, so he leans back and let's it buzz.

There's a loud bang and a curse and then the door's flying open to reveal a pissed off looking Mello and he frowns in confusion.

"Why aren't you at school?" He asks at the same time that Mello asks "What the fuck are you doing?"

His voice sounds funny, slurred and distant and Mello's frowning at him.

"Are you high?" He sputters, dragging Matt inside and the redhead groans, because moving is not helping the urge to throw up all over Mello's marble floor right now.

"I don't... I don't think so?" Matt frowns and flops onto the couch as soon as they reach the living room. It feels amazing.

"Matt...what-"

"I don't know. I don't feel good. Like...I might throw up on your mom's rug dude." He blinks and when he comes back into focus there's a little waste basket under his nose. How'd that get there?

"Matt, what happened?" Mello asks and he doesn't sound angry for once. Which is a good thing. He shouldn't always be so angry, Matt thinks. But he also sounds scared and that isn't much better.

"I went to see your dad, Dara, and...talk."

The anger's back in an instant and Matt sighs. "You what?!"

_Don't yell_, he want's to say, because he has a headache so bad that his eyes are aching. "I wanted to talk to him, just to talk, I swear, and now... What time is it Mello?"

"It doesn't matter about the fucking time Matt! What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you go to his place? Are you fucking insane?!"

"No, fuck Mello, it matters okay! I went there after you called me at like..." He trails off and Mello stares at him in shocked silence.

"I called you at 11:45 Matt. There's no way..." And he has to stop because he can't. He can't do this because he called Matt at 11:45 and that means fours hours have passed and he feels panic slam into his chest like a sledgehammer. "It's 3:20."

Matt's eyes widen and Mello cringes when he suddenly leans over the waste basket and heaves, spitting when he's done. He knows what that means, what the four hours means, and Mello does too but he's scared to admit it to himself.

"What happened?" He asks as Matt cries over the waste basket but his friend only shakes his head. It takes another hour but he finally stops crying, slumping against Mello after he joins him on the couch and not moving an inch after. There's something dark settling in Mello's chest, in the back of his mind, and he has to struggle not to leave Matt on the couch.

_And do what?_ An acidic voice in his head whispers and Mello doesn't know. He doesn't fucking know but Matt's lying here crying his eyes out and shaking. He won't tell him what happened, but Mello doesn't need him to. No, he can see it and he wants to fucking murder Dara, to rip him apart and turn him in to the police, because this, this is fucking sick. But he doesn't.

No, he holds Matt until he stops crying, waits until he's passed out to lay him out on the couch and go to the little arm chair. He curls up on it and pulls up his phone, types Matt's symptoms into Google and pushes search.

What he gets back is the name of a date rape drug called ketamine and all the websites he's looking through say to bring Matt to a hospital, but he knows Matt would hate him if he did. So he does the next best thing and gets a glass of ice water. The sound of it clinking in the glass makes him shudder, and he doesn't know why, but he's trembling he's so fucking scared and Matt might die. That's one of the things that all the websites had in common, that his best friend could die and he doesn't know if he's doing the right thing, but he wakes Matt up, makes him drink and then curls up at the end of the couch.

He watches him for what feels like forever, until the shadows are long across the floor and his mom comes home. She passes by with a disgusted sound when she sees Matt and Mello hates her for it. He doesn't know where Mia is, probably with Halle, and he doesn't care. He just watches Matt and waits.

...

Matt wakes both of them up what may be minutes or hours later, screaming his head off. When something, a person maybe, comes near him, he flinches away so bad that he falls off the couch.

"Matt? Matt! You're okay, you're safe." The blur tells him and Matt almost sobs in relief because he's at Mello's. He's at Mello's and he's safe. They don't talk for a very long time, but Mello helps him back onto the couch and doesn't protest when Matt curls around him like an octopus. When Mello tries to card his hand through Matt's hair, he's sent over the couch, vomiting into the waste basket gain, even though he's pretty sure that there's nothing left in him to throw up.

"You were right." He says, sometime around one in the morning and they're both fucking exhausted but too wrung out to sleep. Matt doesn't want to sleep ever again.

"I don't want to be right." Mello tells him and Matt laughs. He doesn't know why, but he's laughing so hard that he can't breathe. And then he's sobbing and Mello's holding him close, telling him it's okay.

It's not okay, he's not okay. Fuck, he know's it, but he listens to Mello's voice, lets it calm the racing of his heart before he has a panic attack.

"I loved him, you know?" Matt tells him and Mello looks pained. "At least... I thought I did. He just seemed perfect and he made me feel good. But you don't want to hear that. He is your dad, after all."

"He's not my dad, stop calling him that." Mello snaps, anger in his eyes and Matt frowns. "He's not my fucking dad. He doesn't deserve to be. He's a fucking glorified sperm donor that stuck around long enough to ruin my life." Mello snaps and Matt doesn't reply.

"I'm sorry." He tries again, later.

You're so fucking stupid Matt, shut up." Mello tells him and Matt smiles.

Mello smiles back, and even though they both look a little broken, it makes Matt happier than he's been in a while. They're not okay, they're not fixed, and they'll probably never be whole again but it's a start.

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><p><strong>So... Review?<strong>

**This isn't the end, btw. Just in case some of you thought it was. And if you're confused about what happened to Matt then go look at the warning/tags list at the beginning of this chapter.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Warnings/Tags: Explicit language, unhealthy relationships, referenced rape/non-con.**

**A/N: Remember when this story started off back in January and I thought it would be three chapter long? Yeah, I do too, (wasn't I just adorable then?) and now we're probably going to hit near the twenty chapter mark. We should throw a party!**

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><p><em>This will hurt more than anything has before<em>

_What it was, I've brought this on us_

_more than anyone could ignore_

_What I've done, I've worked for so long_

_just to see you mess around_

_What you've done, I want back _

_the years that you took when I was young_

**I Don't Feel It Anymore - William Fitzsimmons (ft. Prescilla Ahn)**

It's Mello who brings it up, and like most things it takes him almost completely by surprise. "We need to tell someone about Dara." Is what Mello says, in between two bites of chocolate chip waffles and Matt nearly chokes.

"No. We really don't." Matt tells him once he can _breathe_ again and Mello narrows his eyes in, what, annoyance? Matt doesn't know and he doesn't really care. Mello can feel whatever negative emotions he wants, just as long as he doesn't say anything like _that_ ever again.

But because Mello is indeed Mello, he doesn't drop it for long. "All I'm saying is that you can't keep this a secret forever. He doesn't deserve you protecting him."

"Protecting him? What the fuck are you talking about Mello? I'm not protecting him. I'm scared! I'm fucking terrified, because if I tell anyone, then it'll get out and then what do I do? Your dad has one of the most influential security companies in LA, do you really think it's not going to become news that he fucked a fifteen year old? And then everyone will know, my fucking dad will know, and what do you think they'll think?"

"That a grown man took advantage of you." Mello shot back, and when Matt snorted, he glared at him. "They're not going to blame you, despite whatever you're thinking."

"You don't know that."

"I don't blame you." Mello pointed out and Matt laughed.

"You should, and I have no idea why you don't." Matt confessed, voice small. "I knew what I was doing Mello. That's all anyone is going to care about."

"It's quiet for a long moment, then : "Just think about it. There's going to be another kid that thought he knew what he was doing too if we don't do something."

And that's what hurts the most, because Mello could be right. Matt doubts it, knows deep down that he was probably an exception, but he can ever really know for sure. What if he's not, what if he's kidding himself and Dara finds another kid like him that's eager and naive and little bit lonely? It's a horrible thought, and it makes him feel sick, but he does what Mello wants. He thinks about it.

...

Matt hates Mello a little, in all honesty.

He looks... not smug, but _satisfied_ on the way to Dara's. Like he's proud or something. Matt kind of wants to throw up. Preferably on him. But he swallows it down and lets Mello have his little victory whatever over in the passenger seat. However, it's not until he's turning onto the street that he thinks that maybe Chevelle isn't the best vehicle to use when breaking and entering into your ex's (is Dara his ex?) apartment. She is bright read, after all. When he opens his mouth to comment though, Mello cuts him off.

"I called his secretary and she said that he'd be out on a business meeting until noon." The blonde tells him and Matt nods.

"Okay." Okay. "We're doing this." He breaths, in and out, because they. Are doing. This. He feels anxious, excited, nauseous, and a plethora of other things, but like earlier, he swallows it all down.

"If we find enough evidence to put him away without a doubt, then we'll go to the cops. If we don't, we don't and I drop it." Mello reminds him and Matt knows. They've gone over this three times already. It doesn't make it any less terrifying.

They're standing in front of Dara's door sooner than he would've liked and he's not ashamed that a part of him cheers when his key doesn't fit the lock anymore. Mello doesn't try his own though, just drops down to his knees and digs something out of his backpack.

"Are you picking the fucking lock?!" He hisses down at him and Mello glares at him for a second before turning back to what he was doing.

"Lawliet has a twin brother that I'm pretty sure is a murdering psychopath." Mello says, like that isn't fucking terrifying. But Matt doesn't get a chance to comment because the lock gives a reluctant click and Mello pushes it open with a soft little "Ta da".

"We're going to get caught and sent to prison." Matt can't help but say as he leads the way into the apartment but Mello only hums in response.

"We should record anywhere that you had sex." Mello says and he sounds pained in a way that Matt feels. "It'll create a layout of the apartment and prove that you've been here before. So, room by room and... Living room's first I guess."

"Technically, the entrance hall would be first." Matt points out and Mello gives him an unamused look.

"Matt, you didn't have sex in the entrance hall." He drawls and then immediately regrets it when Matt looks anywhere but at him. "Seriously?"

"You asked." Matt grumbles as he disappears into the kitchen to start looking for... anything really. "And if you really want to, you should probably start taking pictures."

"Where?" Mello asks, camera in hand and voice annoyed.

"Everywhere. Like, start from that far wall and basically snap a photo every two feet going toward the hallway."

"You can't be serious." Mello says and Matt has to hide a smile. It's petty, he knows it is, but he feels a little vindictive right now. He doesn't want to do this, doesn't want to be here looking for proof of how he fucked up. And he has, so fucking bad, but he doesn't want everyone else to know just how much.

"Okay, general areas I guess." Mello tries a few minute later as Matt's moving to the hall.

"Couch, both tables, most of the floor, that wall specifically, the kitchen counters, that little arch thing over there... Do blowjobs count as sex?"

"I shouldn't have asked." Mello says dryly and Matt snorts in agreement.

"How about, you check the front room and I'll search the bedroom. We'll put together whatever we find and leave."

Mello narrows his eyes in consideration, then nods. "Alright. I'll start...wherever."

Matt leaves him to it. It's not that he's angry, he's not, he's just tired. He's emotionally exhausted over all of this and he wants to let it go. But Mello doesn't let things go. Ever. So if his only complaint is being an ass about have to raid Dara's apartment, then he thinks he deserves it. Just a little.

The room is clean, in a grey scale sort of way. It doesn't feel lived in, but Matt knows for a fact that Dara has a basket of dirty clothes shoved into the back of his walk in closet. And that he absolutely hates putting his shoes away so there's a pair most likely tossed somewhere in a corner. They're little things that he shouldn't know but does, and he both hates knowing them and loves it. Hates it because it makes Dara more human and relatable, and loves it because it makes Dara real. It means that Dara let him in in a way that he never did Nichole or Mello, in a way that he probably hadn't even realised. It's weird and it makes him uncomfortable, makes his insides do crazy, nauseating flips. But it also makes some dark part of him feel warm.

It's sick and horrible and he hates himself a little for thinking it, but it's flattering in a way that he doesn't want to examine. The fact that Dara let his walls down enough for Matt to slip in unnoticed. He shakes his head and kicks a pair of shoes toward the corner near the closet.

One good thing about knowing Dara is the fact that he'd know where he'd want to hide something. He'd put it in plain sight, but not somewhere super obvious, like a desk or a cabinet or a... "Closet."

Clicking on the light, he looked around the closet shelf for anything that could hide something. He's almost turned a full three-sixty when he sees it. It's a plain black box, wide but not super deep, like a file container that you see on Cold Case or something. It's heavy-ish and makes a rattling sound when he nearly drops it, so he takes it to the bed and sits it down. Going back to the closet he makes a more thorough sweep, checking behind the clothes and by the shoes, in the little box where Dara keeps his cufflinks and tie pins. There's nothing though, or at least nothing important to him. So he goes back to the bed and sits.

And sits.

And sits.

And sits, staring at the box that could put Dara in prison for ten years. He's looked into it, of course he has because he needs to know the consequences. And if he does this, if he turns this in, then Dara gets a decade. Ten fucking years, but him? Matt gets to live with it for the rest of his life, gets to look at his dad every day and know that he knows. It's fucked up and it's terrifying, and he honestly doesn't know what to do.

So he opens the box.

He doesn't know what he's expecting, something boring or something damning, he doesn't know. What he does find makes him lose his breath, makes him want shove the box back where it came from, to set it on fire, or hide it somewhere it can never be found. Because it's him. It's him and Dara and he doesn't know what to do. The first thing he sees is the blindfold, the one he gave Dara for his birthday, then under that is a pair of boxers. They're his but they smell like Dara's detergent and he knows he probably left them, like he has so many other pairs. Beneath that is his blue tie, the one that he lost after the beach, and the butt plug with Dara's initials on it. And after that is countless other things that he left or that he gave, or that meant something at some point in time while Dara was fucking him. But it's the last two items at the bottom of the box that hurt. The first are the goggles, the ones he thought had been left at the casino. But no, they're here, lying there in all they're orange tinted plastic glory. And right beside them is a medium sized manila envelope, just the right size for a photo. And oh are there photos. Some of them he doesn't recognize, but some of them he does. Like the beach trip that Dara had taken him and Mello on for a day after his mom had relapsed for the first time. He's smiling, red hair burning in the sun, freckles more pronounced than they are now. Mello's off in the distance, caught mid motion while raving at a seagull for trying to steal his hot-dog.

Matt remembers it like it was yesterday, remembers the heat and the sound of the waves, the sense of safety that he's had with Mello and his father, who had taken him away from his parents' arguing for just a little while. He can't look at them though, can't stand it, so he sorts through them until he finds the newer ones. The last few are recent, pictures he remembers Dara snapping while he'd been doing homework on the floor after sex. He'd only been in a pair of boxers, trying to puzzle his way through Cramer's Rule, when Dara had taken them. He'd smiled then, snagged the camera and looked through the storage at dozens more. And they're all here.

He shoves them back into the envelope and sits it on the side table. Once everything except the photo's is back in the box, he shoves it back into the closet and snatches the photos back up. When he gets back into the living room he finds Mello sitting on the floor with a folder of account papers open in his lap.

"Find anything good?" He asks and Mello visibly jumps, slamming the folder shut.

"He certainly liked you more than he liked my mom." Mello tells him and Matt flinches. It's a little bitter and does nothing to keep Matt from feeling like the fucked up home wrecker that he is. But in his defense, Nichole is a self-conceited bitch.

"You get a quarter of all his earnings, and Nichole and I split the last quarter with five percent in my favor." Matt says and Mello gives him this look, like he doesn't know what to think of Matt anymore. Matt feels exactly the same about himself, to be honest.

"So you knew? About the money, and the job offer, you knew about it all?" Mello asks and stands up in an angry, jerky rush when Matt nods. "Of course you did."

"Why are you so angry at me all of a sudden? You're the one that wanted to do this in the first place."

"Gee, i don't know. Maybe because my best friend is my dad's fucking kept boy and is probably the reason my parents are getting a divorce. Like you couldn't just fuck him, you had to get something out of it too."

"What the fuck?! Where did that come from? I though you didn't blame me!"

"I don't! Fuck, I don't. Forget it." Except that he can't, not as they clean up after themselves, not on the way to the car, and certainly not on the way back to the house. He knows that Mello's digging through the envelope, but he keeps his eyes on the road and doesn't chance looking over. He just... he feels kind of betrayed. He knows that he shouldn't, knows that all this shit must be getting to Mello too, but he can't help it. Mello's his best friend, through thick or thin, and if he doesn't have him then he's fucking lost.

What makes him forget it all though, is the sight of Dara's car in the Kheel driveway. Matt throws the car into reverse as soon as his mind register the Lexus, but it's too late because Dara's already seen him, them, the car.

He dressed in a light blue shirt and slacks, comfortable in a way that no one should look in dress clothes. It makes Matt's chest feel tight, makes his breath catch a little as Dara presses a forearm to Chevelle's hood and leans down. "What're you doin' kiddo?"

For a moment Matt thinks he's talking to him, but no, Dara's looking at his son. Like he doesn't even register that he's a little too close to Matt personal space. "I could ask you the same thing." Mello tells him, voice clipped and cold and Matt wants to hug him, or kiss him, or both.

"Divorce papers." Dara says, giving the papers in his hand a little wave and his eyes flick to Matt, pin him there like he wants to take him apart bit by bit. A part of Matt that he'll most likely need years of counselling for sits up at attention, but he merely sinks back in his seat a little more and does everything in his power not to look at the the evidence that they just spent the last hour or so collecting, clutched in Mello's hands. Dara notices it though, eyes narrowing in a way that Mello reflects perfectly. "What've you got there?" He asks, but he doesn't ask Mello.

No, he asks Matt and Matt is speechless, mouth opening to speak but then stopping when Dara's eyes dip to his lips.

"School project." Mello snaps, finally and Dara smirks.

"Of course." He taps Chevelle's roof, once, twice, then leaves and Matt lets out a pained whoosh of air.

His heart feels like it's going to explode, beating fast in a way that he knows means that he's panicking, but then Mello reaches out and takes his hand. They're finger lace together and the blonde squeezes, quick and reassuring and Matt feels okay.

He might just love Mello for it.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm happy to announce that I have a two to three chapter prequel to this in the works. It's all planned out and I've even started writing it. If I post a part of it before this story concludes I will definitely let you know and if not, just know that it'll be named Take Only What You Need.<strong>

**Other than that, I hope you enjoyed that chapter and expect to hear all you're beautiful thoughts in a review. **

**So review! **

**P.S: that guy at KFC, it you're still alive, I missed you last chapter. Hope you're okay. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rating: M - Explicit**

**Tags/Warnings: Implied rape/non-con, referenced non-con drug use, daddy kink, unhealthy relationships, explicit language, daddy issues, everyone has issues (Matt in particular), explicit sexual content, endings, I don't even know anymore.**

**A/N: So, this is it guys. Last chapter. I have my sexy music on, I just got off a fourteen hour shift at work, and I've realized that this story took me forever to write. Ten months, 17 chapters and over 50,000 words (plus maybe, probably, idk, an epilogue?). **

**To be honest I had only planned on this being a one-shot, but I'm so fucking proud of what this story turned out to be. Do I wish I had changed some stuff? You bet your ass I do (chapter 15 *cough**cough*) but all in all, I'm glad that this story has come as far as it has.**

**Now onward with the story!**

_I tried to be someone__  
><em>I lied to be someone else... for you<em>  
><em>If I had done something a little bit differently<em>  
><em>We would've moved in a better direction than this, baby<em>_

_If you were human__  
><em>If you were who I assumed you were<em>  
><em>You wouldn't have done this<em>  
><em>I thought I did something<em>  
><em>But you would do anything to bring me down<em>  
><em>And you brought me down<em>_

**$ting by The Neighborhood**

A whole week passes with their evidence tucked neatly in a folder under Matt's mattress. He pretends it's not there, steeling himself for Mello's eventual questions. He doesn't forget about it though. He can't. But he doesn't acknowledge it either. He doesn't know if that makes him a coward and can't really bring himself to care either way. This is his choice, not anyone else's.

And it's a hard fucking choice to make. You would think it wouldn't be, given all that Dara has done, but every time Matt looks at that stupid folder he ends up stuck between screaming in frustration and setting it on fire. He thinks about that a lot actually. Just burning away all his problems. But he knows that it won't work, that Dara will still be there, Mello will still know, and he'll still have possibly debilitating feelings toward a man that's only a few years younger than his father.

And that's the part that stumbles him every time he goes down that train of thought. That he might still have feelings for Dara. It's fucked up, he knows it's fucked up, but he's not going to deny it. The four hours that he spent with Dara are a blur, one that he doesn't know if he wants to put into focus, and he knows he was drugged. But after that? He has no fucking clue. For all he knows, Dara drugged him to keep him there, then sent him on his way when he was halfway conscious. It's not innocent by any means and Matt wants to kick Dara in the face for it, but there's no evidence of...anything else. He doesn't feel different, doesn't hurt, at least not physically.

So what kind of game is Dara playing?

The sound of his phone going off jerks him out of his thoughts and he fishes his phone out to see a picture of Mello halfway through eating a chocolate bar. Sliding the picture up, he pushes Answer.

"So," Mello begins without so much as a "hey, how are you?" "You're having dinner tonight, with my family, since Light decided to grace us with his presence early this year."

Wait, what? "Wait. What? Light came down?"

"Yep, with L in tow. So now your family is having dinner with mine." Mello tells him. Matt blinks then goes pale.

"Holy shit." Matt breathes, because this is so not what he needs right now.

"Yeah, I know." Mello snorts.

Holy shit.

...

By the time dinner rolls around Matt's considering contracting the flu suddenly and copping out. His mom will hear none of it though. She's dressed in black tonight, hair pinned up with a gold and emerald comb that matches her earrings. She looks lovely, but when she grabs him by his shoulders and pushes him toward his closet she's every bit of the strong willed mother that pushed herself through a drug addiction just to get a summer with him. So he sucks it up and pulls out an all black suit, sans jacket, with a emerald green tie.

"Just breath sweetie, I love you." She tells him as she pulls him in for a hug. " And I'm so, so proud of you."

Her voice is soft, breath whispering over his ear just before she plants a kiss to the side of his head. It makes his throat close up, makes his heart ache, because he rarely gets to see this side of his normally apathetic mother. But she's here now, so he wraps his arms around her and buries his head in her shoulder.

"We all set in here?" His dad asks from the doorway, knuckles rapping against the door frame softly and his mom pulls away with a encouraging smile.

"Almost. Go down and start the car while I grab my purse. Matt, sweetie, hurry up and change. We don't want to be late."

Matt gets dressed quickly, emerald tie and all, and can't help but think of Dara when he looks into the mirror. He thinks of the last time Dara saw him in a suit, thinks of the frantic kissing in the bathroom, the way Dara had held him up against a wall and told him how much he wanted him. It makes his skin feel hot and he looks away, tries to think of something else, anything else but the beach and fireworks and Dara's hands trailing along his body.

His mom snaps him out of it though with a sharp knock on the door before she peaks her head in. "All set?" She asks, voice more cheerful than he's heard it in a long time. Her eyes are hesitant though, like she knows that his stomach is doing somersaults.

"Yeah, I just..." He begins and fumbles to a stop with a sigh. He does't know what he wants to say, doesn't know what he's thinking. He's confused, and drained, and anxious, but she's smiling at him like he's the most precious thing in her world so he digs up a smile in return.

She brightens in response and steps forward to straighten his tie. In her heels they're about the same height so the hug is a little awkward but no less nice for it. "You're stronger than you think kiddo." She tells him and the ball of anxiety in his stomach loosens a little. "And you're not alone. Remember that, okay?"

"I will." He murmurs and she grabs his hand and tugs him down the stairs.

...

The restaurant is brightly lit and almost gaudy with extravagance, just like the first time. Veronica keeps him and his dad in check though, so they don't terrorize the waiting staff, but even then the wait for the Kheels is short. Dara's the first one he sees, naturally, but it's Mello that reaches him first. His blue eyes are cold but his smile is warm.

"Look at you. Mommy's boy much?"He asks and Matt flushes.

"Shut up." Matt hisses at him, at the same time that Veronica gives Mello a pointed look.

"Well, I think he looks lovely, don't you?" Nichole says innocently, but she's not speaking to Mello. She's speaking to Dara, who gives Matt a once over and smiles before turning back to the skinny, raven haired man beside him. Matt can't help but duck his head, his stomach doing a weird sort of flutter. He shouldn't react like this, not after all that's happened, but he does. Mello's smile fades a little and he narrows his eyes, but ultimately ignores his parents altogether.

"Oh man, is that Matt?" A smooth voice speaks up and Matt turns to see Light. The man takes his breath away, not like Dara does. But close, so, so close. His boyhood crush hits him in the solar plexus with the force of a battering ram as one of Light's arms wraps around his shoulders and he smiles, all perfect teeth and hair and everything. It's like looking at a walking GQ magazine advert. "You've grown up! Jesus, kid."

"Well, the last time you saw him he was what, eight?" Dara asks and Light looks like he did when he was a teenager. Right before he stuck his tongue out or flipped someone the bird.

"How would you know, what with age taking away your memory?" He retorts and Dara smiles, quick and blinding.

"Not too old to kick your ass, remember that." He shoots back and the raven haired man by his side, who must be the infamous Lawliet, lets out a laugh. Light's eyes widen and he smiles like a kid on Christmas.

"And this, everyone is Lawliet." He announces, like a man presenting his most prized possession, only to be elbowed in the side.

"Call me L." The man tells them in a low monotone, black gaze flitting around the room before alighting on the waiter that's walking up. "I think our table is ready."

Matt's impression of L throughout dinner is quiet. The ravenette rarely speaks, but when he does, he's unquestionably the smartest man in the room. However, he seems more content to observe, despite how many times someone at the table tries to engage him in conversation. Whenever this happens, his answers are always short, polite, and succinct. Matt also learns that L has a viscous sweet tooth, which throws him a little, because Light's like the poster child for healthy eating. Apparently L is full of surprises though, because when Matt's mom asks him what he wants to do in LA he responds with visiting the beach. Everyone, including Light, looks incredulous.

"I've never been to one before." Is all he says in explanation and Dara smiles.

"Light will have to take you to one. They're especially nice at night," Dara tells him, eyes skimming over to Matt. "Very romantic."

"Really?" Nichole asks sweetly and Dara gives her a dark look.

"Yes, although you were never one to get dirty. Matt certainly liked it," The blonde barely paused but Matt felt his entire body freeze up, breath lodging in his throat in a way that leaves him lightheaded. "When he and Mello went as kids."

"Yeah, it was great." Mello bites out before standing up. "I'm going to wash my hands before the food arrives." Almost immediately after Dara's phone rings and he excuses himself from the table too.

After a few minutes of sitting uncomfortably, listening to the other adults talk, Matt leaves the table as well. Making a loop by the bathroom for an excuse, he walks alongside a water until he can get to the front of the restaurant without being seen. Dara's there, one hand in his pocket as he talks on the phone and Matt' never been so angry in his entire life.

"What the fuck is your problem?" He snaps, snatching the phone away and holding it so tight that the plastic creaks in protest. Dara doesn't react like he expects him to. He rarely does. No, instead of becoming angry and trying to get the phone back, he just sighs and gives Matt a now familiar look. Like he's a bad little kid in need of discipline. At one time, it would have turned his insides to a heated, mess of hormones and need, but now. Now, he's too annoyed.

"I wasn't aware that there was one, kiddo." He replies, gaze shifting around them. "Now give me my phone."

"Really? You weren't aware? Well then," Matt dangles the phones before closing his fist tight, drawing back his arm, and hurling it into the street. "I guess we now have a problem."

"Nice." Dara snorts around the sound of a car rendering his phone to unsalvageable little pieces. "I certainly won't make any more phone calls during dinner. Happy now?"

"Oh fuck you." Matt breathes in disbelief.

"Been there, done that kiddo." Dara winks and tries to walk past him. Next thing Matt knows he's grabbing Dara's arm to bring him back, to keep him from leaving, and Dara turns, grabbing his neck. He's pressed against the wall in seconds, Dara's palm fitting into the hollow of his collarbone as he leans into him.

"I don't care about the stunt you pulled with the phone, I didn't blame you for your mom beating the shit out of me, and I can even look over you rooting through my apartment -yes, I noticed, but I'm letting you know right now: Don't. Fuck. With. Me. You'll lose."

"Already have." Matt manages around the hand pressing against his windpipe and Dara smiles, slow and heated. Then he's leaning down and kissing him. For a second Matt is stunned, for a second he can't help but open his mouth to let Dara in, a moan rising in his throat like he's a dog under Pavlov's training. But then time catches up, and he remembers all that Dara's done, all that Dara could do, and he shoves. It's affective, surprisingly so, and Dara's still smiling.

"The thing that you don't seem to understand kiddo, no matter how much you push the idea of me and you away, is that you're always going to have that split second when you hesitate." Dara tells him, hand on his throat moving up to cup his cheek. "You did it just now, and you've done it before."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Matt moves away from Dara's hand and the older man lets it hang there for a few seconds, before using it to adjust his cuffs.

"Oh, I think you do. You may think that you don't want me, that you don't want us, but I know you. I know you Matty, baby, and you're always going to need someone to take control. You think that anyone else can do that? That someone else can understand you the way I do?"

"I'm sure plenty of people can fuck like you do." Matt snaps, irritation rising as Dara only smirks knowingly.

"Keep telling yourself that, kiddo. You want me gone, I'm gone." Stepping into Matt's space, he slips a hand to the back of his neck and pulls him close. "Just remember what I told you in Vegas."

And with that he places a kiss to Matt's hair, breath warm against his scalp, before moving to his mouth in something more searing and dirty and god damn familiar. It's short, so short that the blonde is pulling back before Matt has the chance to push him away again. He needn't have hurried though, because Matt's still stuck on what Dara said, searching through his memory as a valet pulls up in Dara's car. He's already gone by the time the memory clicks into place and Matt's hands clench into fists as he resists the urge to punch the wall.

"Fuck!"

_You never forget your first._

...

Mello's reseated by the time Matt gets inside. His mom gives his arm a quick squeeze as he passes and a text lets Nichole know that Dara had a sudden business obligation to tend to. The announcement isn't much of a surprise, but Light looks somewhat annoyed.

Polite conversation is made for the rest of the night, mostly about L and Light and they're relationship together. Given the fact that Light was only in his teens when Matt first met Mello in first grade, he can't help but be surprised that Light's already found "the one", but he's also never seen Light look at someone the way he does L. Not Takada, and especially not Misa.

Mello doesn't speak much, not even to Matt and he can't deny that it's annoying as fuck. So, once the god awful dinner is over, Matt grabs Mello and pull him out to the parking lot. He tries not to think of Dara as he does it too, but Mello has the same look in his eyes.

"What's wrong with you?" He tries and Mello lets out a harsh exhale, hand moving to comb through his hair, but stopping mid air as he remembers that it's in a ponytail again.

"Did you fuck him?"

The questions stuns him, makes him mind draw a complete blank as his jaw drops. "What?"

"Did you fuck him?" Mello repeats, deliberate and slow this time and Matt doesn't know whether to punch him or... No, he does. He punches him. Mello's head snaps to the side with the force of it and for a moment they're both stunned. Then Mello catches up and punches Matt so hard that his vision goes fuzzy.

"What the fuck is wrong with you two?!" A voice shouts and suddenly Matt's being pulled away before he can hit Mello again. That doesn't stop him from kicking him in the stomach though.

"You fucking asshole! You're my best friend."

"Best friends don't fuck each others' dads, you fucking whore." Mello spits out a glob of blood and the arms holding Matt stiffen. Realization hits both of them, Matt with the fact that Light's the one that's holding him, and Mello with what he just said.

"What did you say?" Light asks, voice cold as Matt slumps in his arms, breath coming quick before everything he just ate comes rushing up his throat. Light lets him go as he stumbles to the wall and throws up. The wall in front of him looses focus as his vision begins to blur.

"Nothing!" Mello snaps, eyes fever bright as he steps in to help his friend. "I'm sorry. Okay? I'm so so so so sorry. I didn't mean it. I just... I hate him so much, so fucking much for what he did."

"Shut up." Matt tells him, voice harsh as he wipes his mouth. "Not everything is about you, you know. So stop acting like it." Pushing himself away from the wall, he brushes past both of the Kheels and makes his way to his parents.

On the ride home he gets a text message from Mello. Then two, three, four...

He ignores all of them and after the twelfth one he turns his phone off.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue next! <strong>

**Thanks so much for your patience guys. **

**Also, yes, Mello's being a dick, but he's working through everything. Don't be mad at him. **


	18. Chapter 18

**Title: My Eyes Don't Shed Tears**

**Rated: M - Explicit**

**Warnings/Tags: Daddy issues, unhealthy relationships, healthy relationships, all the feels, Dara issues, police procedure, I know nothing about the law, dysfunctional families, dysfunctional friendships, Matt finally gets his shit together(sort of), semi-happy ending.**

**A/N: I'm sooooo sorry this took so long to write! I was moving, you see, but now I'm all settled in. Plus I've finally decided on an end to this monster after many a half-written chapter.**

_And I'm afraid_  
><em>To sleep because of what haunts me<em>  
><em>Such as living with the uncertainty<em>  
><em>That I'll never find the words to say<em>  
><em>Which would completely explain<em>  
><em>Just how I'm breaking down<em>  
><em>Someone come and, someone come and save my life<em>  
><em>Maybe I'll sleep when I am dead<em>  
><em>But now it's like the night is taking sides<em>  
><em>With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind<em>  
><em>Could it be this misery will suffice?<em>

**Sleeping Sickness by City And Colour**

* * *

><p>Matt doesn't know when it happens, or how, but sometime over the weekend his folder goes missing. He doesn't worry about it much, figures he stuck it in his backpack, or closet, or under his bed. There's plenty of places it can be, so he pushes it to the back of his mind, silently (secretly) relieved that it's out of picture. He spends the entirety of Sunday at Mello's, playing video games and eating junk and watching movies and <em>being a kid. <em>It's nice, so fucking nice and he misses it. He still hasn't forgiven Mello, not entirely, and he can't help but flinch away from the concerned looks that Light gives him whenever they're in the same room. They're never alone together, thank god, and Light never says anything beyond "I'm here if you need to talk."

There's a part of him that wishes someone would do something for a change, would stick up for him and turn Dara in, but mostly he's just relieved that he can pretend that everything is fine for just that little bit longer. He can't shake the feeling of a calm before the storm though. It's a feeling that sends the hairs on the back of his neck tingling with static, like the world is giving him enough rope to hang himself. _Like Icarus flying to close to the sun_, he muses and the thought only leaves a heavy feeling in his stomach.

Mello makes him feel better though, calms the uneasiness eating away at every part of his being by letting him choose which games they play, which movies they watch. It's his way of apologizing, Matt realizes halfway through _John Wick_ and he reaches over and grabs Mello's hand in thanks. The blonde stiffens in response, just for a moment before relaxing, and when Matt looks at him out of the corner of his eye he sees that his best friend is smiling.

And for the first time in a long time, Matt feels like everything will be okay.

...

They're at school when it happens. One minute they're walking to second period English and the next Mello is being called to the office. He rolls his eyes and shrugs in response to Matt's silent "What did you do now?" and Matt continues on to class. Fifteen minutes in his phone chimes and he looks down to see a message from Mello with only three words in it. Those three words send him reeling though, as he sucks in an almost painful breath of air.

_Dara's been arrested._

Matt pukes all over the back of Cindy Lawfern's chair.

He doesn't remember much after that, besides stumbling his way to the nurse's office, with Cindy's shrieking echoing from the classroom. The nurse excuses him for the rest of the day, with a bottle of water and instructions to lay down. He waits until she's distracted by a freshman that forgot to bring a tampon and slips out of the room. Mello's waiting for him in the parking lot, and he numbly hands over the keys when MEllo asks, getting into the passenger seat and leaning his head against the window.

"What happened?" He manages to ask halfway to his house but Mello just shakes his head and cusses out an old lady that forgot to put her blinkers on.

"I don't know. Roger just told me that Dad's been taken into police custody and that I should wait around for someone to pick me. Like that was gonna fucking happen." He scoffs and Matt smiles against the cold glass of the windowpane. "You think Light said something?"

Matt knows that he wouldn't, but he shrugs and Mello lapses into silence. When they get to Matt's house, his mom is at the store and his dad's waiting for him at the dining room table with a familiar blue folder in front of him. He looks up when Mello abruptly stops, causing Matt to stumble into his back. His eyes are red rimmed and his hands are clenched so hard that the knuckles are white.

"How long?" He asks, voice rough and Matt's knees go weak. When he doesn't say anything, one of Thierry's hands hits the table with a crash. "God dammit Matt, say something!" He yells and Matt takes a couple steps back, turns around and runs to his room.

He can hear Thierry telling Mello to _stay put_ through his door, but he just locks it and slides down the wood as his father makes his way down the hall. His breath is shuddering in his chest, ragged and quick and he has to remind himself to breathe. Except it's getting harder and harder as he feels the door shudder, his dad moving to sit on the other side. His vision blurs when his dad starts talking, asking him if he's alright, telling him that he's sorry for yelling, and it's not fucking fair. Thierry doesn't get to love him, not after finding out, and the fact that he does is making Matt feel like his heart is gonna beat right out of his chest.

He doesn't know how long he sits there crying before he feels his dad's hand reach for his under the door. All he knows is that his dad knows and he doesn't hate him and he's holding his hand even though it must be uncomfortable all the while keeping up a steady flow of words.

He ends up lying down with their hands connected as he dad tells him over and over that he loves him. When he's cried as much as he can, breathing wet and uneven, he lets go and kneels up long enough to unlock and open the door. The smile that comes across his dad's face is watery and broken but before he can so much as hiccup, he's being pulled into a hug so tight that his bones creak.

"I'm so sorry Mail, my baby boy, I'm so sorry." He tells him over and over voice cracking as tears create a dark spot on Matt's shirt. "How did- Why didn't you- God, I'm such a horrible father for not seeing this before. I should've... I'm so stupid. So, so stupid, for letting that _fucker _near you."

"No dad, it's okay." _It's not your fault_, he wants to say, because it isn't. It's not is dad's fault, it's not anyones fault except his and Dara's, but his dad just shakes his head and lets out a shuddering half-sob.

"I wanted to kill him. I was checking your room since I was on dishes duty and I knocked over that fucking folder and you were there. God, you were- You're a kid for fuck's sake and he... He hurt you. He hurt my little boy and I didn't know what to do. I wanted to destroy him after seeing that video-"

"Video?!" Matt cuts him off, scrambling up off the floor. "What video?"

His dad stares up at him blankly for a long moment, before nodding toward the hall. "There was a USB stick at the bottom of the envelope with the... the pictures." He tells him and curses as Matt pushes past him out of the room. He practically rips open the folder in his search for it, and finds it in a little clear plastic pill bag, stapled to the folder. It's not necessarily a USB stick, just the head of one, small as his thumbnail and impossibly easy to lose. Mello follows him silently as he makes his way to his dad's office computer. Thierry arrives just as the window pops open with two video files on it and nothing else. He goes pale and turns back toward the kitchen, leaving them alone.

"You don't have to watch it." Mello tells him but Matt shakes his head and presses play. He recognises what's happening immediately. He's on the bed in the club, stretched out as Dara slips something, a remote, into his back pocket. He watches as Dara climbs over him, stomach dropping as Mello's dad pulls his hands over his head. His voice, when it comes, is tinny and cracks with a combination of need and youth. Matt makes to mute it, then thinks better of it, knows that he needs to see this, needs to see what Dara's taken from him. Because _this_, this isn't supposed to be on camera. Dara's not supposed to have his first time saved for later on some cheap memory stick to be pulled up and enjoyed later. It makes his stomach roll just thinking about it and when he looks over at Mello, the blonde is glaring down at his hands in his lap.

When on-screen Matt makes a little broken sound, gasping as he comes, Mello stands up, hands clenched at his sides. "I can't." He tells Matt and practically runs out of the room.

The video ends what seems like an eternity later and Matt clicks on the second one. This time he does mute it, watching what's happening through the fringe of his hair, until he realizes that he doesn't recognise what's going on. It's Dara's apartment, that much it clear, but he doesn't remember the night. So he watches as Dara arranges him on the bed, watches as on-screen him makes desperate little sounds, eyes half lidded with lust.

No. Not lust. He's drugged, movements lethargic and weak.

He pauses the video, breathing through the nausea that's crawling up his chest, and checks the timestamp on the video file. September 22. It's the day he'd skipped school to talk to Dara, the day he'd came to Mello's with four and a half hours missing from his life.

"You motherfucker," He breathes, unmuting the video and pressing play again.

Dara doesn't fuck him, not really. He strips both of them and kisses Matt, hand running up and down his body. He's hard, that much Matt can see and about five minute in Dara starts to fuck into his own hand, arm holding him up over Matt's body.

"God, I wish I could fuck you." Dara tells him, voice muffled against on-screen Matt's shoulder. "You're always so perfect for me, ever since Vegas. Gagging for it like I knew you always would."

Dara moans, takes a moment to rearrange Matt onto his back so that when he comes, he paints Matt's hole with it. He kneels there, panting for a moment before kissing the back of the unconscious Matt's neck. Matt watches as Dara cleans him up before switching the camera off.

The video ends and Matt's left shaking.

When he leaves his dad's office, USB tucked safely into the pocket of his jeans, his mom, dad, and Mello are all at the table. He sits, and for the longest time no one dares to say anything.

In the end, his mom offers to take Mello home, but the blonde declines and she ends up pulling out the sofa bed. Matt puts the USB back in the folder and if his hands shake, his dad doesn't comment on it.

"He'll get twenty years." Matt finally says and Thierry sighs. It's not enough, for either of them, but they're lucky if they get anything more.

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><p>His dad turns the folder in the next morning, USB and all, and Matt calls out sick from school so he can go along. It's in the middle of the afternoon by the time Matt finishes talking to the STO. He feels like the man , Detective Carr, has asked him every question at least twice, but the one that throws him off the most is the one about how they had sex. He gets it, knows that they need to make sure he's not mistaking anything, but it still makes a dark part of him want to laugh because there's no way to mistake what he and Dara did. He answers the questions, everything short of identifying a picture of Dara's cock and by the time they're done Carr's brown eyes look a little haunted.<p>

He gives Matt his card, write his cell phone number on the back of it with instructions for Matt to call him if _anything at all_ happens. Matt takes the card along with a Rape Victims' pamphlet with the date and time of his next interview scribbled in it. An officer shows him to a little side room where his dad is waiting for him. They hug and his dad suggests that they go to the ice cream shop with a sad smile and Matt agrees.

...

The trial doesn't begin until summer break six months after Dara's arrest. Matt knows that Dara's been in secure lockdown in jail up until then, because places like that aren't kind to people like Dara and the attorney wanted him alive long enough to get sentenced.

When he see's Dara, he's in a dark grey suit with a tie the color of his eyes. He looks good and Matt hates him for it.

His parents are there and everything is going easily enough until Dara's defence attorney calls him to the stand. The judge gives him an immeasurable look as he makes his pledge and his hand feels clammy against the bible. Dara's attorney is an average looking woman with brown hair and brown eyes, but she walks with an air of confidence that puts Matt on edge.

"Matt, you don't mind if I call you Matt, do you?" She begins and Matt shrugs.

"No." He tells her when he remembers that he has to give verbal answers.

"Good. Matt, what's your sexual preference?" She asks, smile motherly even as she stares him down. The question throws him so much that he doesn't even hear the objection until it's overruled.

"Uh... I...guys, I guess?" He stutters and her eyes gain the look of a predator.

"Older guys, from what I understand." She says, like they're having a friendly conversation.

"Not really, I just. I'm gay. I don't have much of a preference beyond male."

"Interesting. So when you went to the club in Vegas, you were looking for a guy, any guy?" She continues and Matt has the uncomfortable feeling of walking into a trap.

"Yeah." He mumbles, then repeats himself a little louder when the judge clears his throat.

"So any man could have taken to bed that night? Not just Dara, he was just there. Tell me, did you recognize him?"

"Yes, I did."

"Of course. Because he practically raised you, through your parents' divorce. You naturally spent a lot of time at the Kheels. Did anything happen that whole time? Any touching or not so innocent words?"

"No." He tells her and glances over at Dara. It's a mistake and he knows it, but Dara looks so calm. Then he winks and Matt looks back at the attorney.

"If I'm not mistaken Dara left after your parents' divorce. That must have hurt, having two parental figures suddenly leave your life. You must have hated him for leaving you."

"I didn't... I didn't understand why he left." Matt tells her and she looks like she's about to coo at him. Like he's a child.

"I bet, and you didn't see him for five years. That's a lot of time for emotions to build up. You must of felt so betrayed. Angry even. But then he was there, at the club. He certainly didn't recognise you, you'd grown so much, but you knew who he was, didn't you?"

"Yes, I knew who he was."

"So, you're angry and betrayed and here's the man that abandoned you offering you comfort again. So you took it, didn't you?"

Took it. Like he was the one seducing Dara, like it's his fault that Dara fucked a minor.

"I... I don't... that's not what..." He tries, before he snaps his mouth shut and clenches his fists in his lap.

Dara's attorney gives him a look that's almost pitying, before going back to sit beside Dara. "I'm done your Honor." She tells the judge and Matt sits there as the Judge calls a break. When he looks up, Dara's being leds from the courtroom, hands cuffed and a small smile on his lips.

...

"That bitch!" Veronica practically snarls once they're all lead into a separate room. Matt's state attorney, nods in agreement and rubs his hands over his face. The man is short, with thick black hair and warm brown eyes. Matt has the distinct feeling that he's been played but when he says as much, Leo, only sighs.

"That's just how these cases tend to go. The victim will be painted as someone that seduced the defendant, with clothes or words or actions. It's affective, unfortunately, but given your age and the evidence against Mr. Kheel, I doubt it'll do much good in keeping him out of jail."

And it doesn't.

At the beginning, Dara's defence is good. But then the evidence starts piling up. The plans that Dara made for his future are explained as him trying to help Matt, as any father figure naturally would, but after that it all goes downhill for Dara. The photos are brought up, examined, cross-examined, along with parts of the video. Dara's defence gains holes, then cracks. It's not until Mello gets put on the stand that it crumbles. The whole time the blonde is talking, he glares Dara down, everyone else be damned.

The trials last for nearly a year and Matt's starting to get tired of the sight of the courtrooms, but the Jury finally casts a unanimous vote. Guilty. Not only of statutory rape, but for making and possessing child pornography, and for drugging a minor. It's a collection of twenty-six years, and it's enough for Matt.

When the verdict is called, Matt looks at Dara and winks.

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><p><strong>AN: And that's the end! ****Review! I'll be post a prequel for this story on January 11th, so go subscribe to me.**


	19. MEDST PREQUEL

**MEDST Prequel, Songlist, And ****Acknowledgements**

**Just a friendly reminder that the Prequel to this story is now up. I posted it the eleventh of January, as promised, under the title Take Only What You Need. **

**So if you're up for one last morally ambiguous adventure with me, then go check it out.**

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><p><span><strong>Acknowledgements<strong>

**I want to say thank you to everyone that has not only review, favorite, and followed this story, but also anyone that's read it. I know that it wasn't everyone's cup of tea at first, or even at all, but I'm so glad it was read and liked by so many of you. I know I haven't replied to the last couple reviews, but no worries, I will. **

**2014 was a rough year for me, and writing this story, despite the mental qualms I had with it at some points, really helped me get through. But I've moved out of my mom's house, I've started at a new college, and I'm feeling a lot happier than I have in the last couple years. So thank you.**

**Special shoutout to my reviewers though! Those of you that have been here from the beginng, those of you that came sometime in the middle, and those of you that saw this story through to its one year anniversry. Thank you all so much.**

**Also Ray, UsernameUnderContruction, and KkChibiChop, thank you for letting me rant and rave at you throughout the story, especially about my ideas.**

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><p><strong>Now for this story's song list!<strong>

**Chapter 1: Thinkin' Ahead by Bastille**

**Chapter 2: God's And Monsters by Lana Del Rey**

**Chapter 3: Flesh by Simon Curtis**

**Chapter 4: Adagio For Strings by Bastille**

**Chapter 5: Toxic by Yael Naim**

**Chapter 6: National Anthem by Lana Del Ray**

**Chapter 7: Only If For A Night by Florence + The Machine**

**Chapter 8: Devils Don't Fly by Natalia Kills**

**Chapter 9: Off To The Races by Lana Del Rey**

**Chapter 10: A Little Death by The Neighborhood**

**Chapter 11: Flaws by Bastille**

**Chapter 12: Afraid by The Neighborhood**

**Chapter 13: A Little Taste by Skyler Stonestreet**

**Chapter 14: No One's Here To Sleep by Bastille**

**Chapter 15: The World Was Gone by Snow Ghosts**

**Chapter 16: I Don't Feel It Anymore by William Fitzsimmons**

**Chapter 17: $ting by The Neighborhood**

**Chapter 18: Sleeping Sickness by City And Colour**

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><p><strong>Dara's official playlist is linked in my Author Profile.<strong>


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